Northborn
by GrimMaw
Summary: An SI is born in planetos but on the other side of the wall(basically an si as a wildling, there are far too few of those) *Re-edited chapter 1-4*
1. Chapter 1

ANGROD POV

Holding the shaft of my Dane axe I release a calm breath, positioning myself in a runner's stance half crouched and hiding behind a tree that judging by how big it was it might as well have been older than the great wall. Waiting for the signal while only giving a halfhearted glace to the two fellows beside me, I ignore them as soon as I see an arrow sticking out of the first slaver's throat only giving a grim smile.

Without giving the surprised group of slaver's from the narrow sea the chance to re-organize or recover from the shock of losing a member, I howl and start leading the charge, darting out of my cover picking up speed and using the momentum I picked up to slam into the first man leading with my shoulder, at 350pounds there were few men that could face a charge from me and still stand to fight and the slaver was not one.

Breaking his ribs and leaving his half dead body for those behind me to finish off, with nary a drop in speed I use the built up momentum of the charge to swing the Dane axe cutting off another slaver's head, then angling the axe to the left I continue the swing looping off another slaver's arm with his sword in one stroke. Without giving him the chance to even scream out in pain, I step into his guard headbutting hard enough to break his nose and send shards of bone to his brain.

Using my left hand to grip the dead slaver's chainmail I use the dead body to block two arrows fired at me using the dead man as a shield, throwing the dead man to the right and falling a charging slaver I step closer not giving him a chance to get back on his feet and brutally step on his throat downing the man for good.

I moved on cleaving open slaver's even grabbed a slaver by the side of the head and tested it against the durability of tree, the head lost. the rest of the fight was a blur.

Minutes later, Blood soaked and no more blood lusted I looked around to survey the counter raid against the slaver's, I watch my warriors rip through what was left of the slaver's with hate and vengeance for there were few things the free folk hated more than slavery.

Eyeing the spot where the archers shot at me from, I spot the dead bodies of the archers. Grinning wildly, and knowing how Ygritte took ranged attacks on my person personal I looked for the most well-dressed slaver guessing he must be the leader at the back trying to co-ordinate his raiders back to any form of obsolete defense, looking back at the area where our archers were hidden to obscure their numbers and protect them from enemy ranged attacks I point at the well-dressed slaver, fewer seconds later I see another arrow fire into the slaver group killing the leader and sending the remaining slaver's panicking and either trying to surrender or run none received much mercy as the few that surrendered were still cut down and the ones that tried to run back to their ship were cut down before they could go far.

Looking at the light snow that had started falling again I wondered and cursed who or what had brought me to this hellhole here for the uncountable time in my short 19 years of life and dumped me this far from the main plot and this close to the white walkers.

Shaking such dreary thoughts from my head I look towards our ranged squad consisting of Ygritte and seven others, resting the Dane axe against a tree to the side i open my hands wide to hug my sister while shorter than me at 5'9 there were few people as tall or taller than me at 6'6 among my war band.

"you almost got shot" she said as soon as I released her from the hug with a scowl on her face, as fiery as ever giving a slight grin and shrugging I replied easily

"I knew you had my back, there wasn't much to fear" she still huffed looking away from me to survey the battleground she asked "what next?

Turning towards the sea where the slaver's ship must still be anchored I reply back coolly not letting any of my anger at the thought of what the fate of the captured free folks would be subjected to if the slaver's escaped with their cargo, from the glances I got from the free folk still close enough to be within earshot I was not as successful as I wanted it didn't matter much though.

"we wait till nightfall, while the ones at shore and on the ship would be worried at the thought of the others not yet showing up, I doubt they will leave without them"

Looking at a free folk to the side I ordered him to bring the free folk that escaped the slaver's raid and brought the news of slaver's on shore to my settlement.

Looking back towards the sea where free folks returned from pursuing the few slaver's that decided to run, from the smile on the free folks faces I knew they were killed to a man, looking towards the sea again I realized that by this time tomorrow I would have taken over a ship and released the captured free folks or I would be dead. What a grim world I thought morosely.


	2. Chapter 2

ANGROD POV

With my back rested against a tree I had the chance to think back to how this all began and reminisce.

Unlike other SI stories I had read about in my former life, I was lucky enough not to be self-aware at birth, or even years later. I started recovering my memories at age 10 when my tribe was raided, apparently, a club to the head did a lot to juggle and refresh memories.

I was struck down in passing, by one of the raiding free folks and woke up in a half-destroyed tent with Ygritte clinging beside me for comfort and the body heat. A few days later I had recovered enough to ask questions, (apparently there were only a few casualties after the raiding as the raiders were skinny and starving free folks).

Imagine my surprise finding out I was in Planetos and my horror at the fact that I was on the other side of the wall, it was only the presence of Ygritte that shook me out of my funk as I was no longer a college student with my only problem being the decision to go to class or not. I was saddled with a younger sister who saw me as some war god as apparently I also took down the raider that bashed at my head before fainting after the fight (the skinny fucker tripped over my body and snapped his neck when he fell).

Looking at my face in the plate of gruel Ygritte had begged off an older free folk for me to eat I was surprised by my face, with hair a dark shade of blood and bright purple eyes, the crows that watched me ever since I woke up made a whole lot of sense now considering the only Targaryen I knew that had disappeared on this side of the wall and whose blood I most likely had in my veins.

So, I was a confused child followed around by another confused child, seeing this I decided to force myself to be better than I was, and absolutely nothing in my past life was as good a motivation as the fact that I was trapped on the other side of the wall, considering Ygritte presence I was close to the show timeline-wise.

While Ygritte had scavenged an okay bow and quiver from one of the dead raiders and started learning how to use it, I found a short axe almost buried in the snow, convincing one of the warriors in my tribe to teach me to fight was not so hard with my growing reputation as a boy of ten years killing an armed raider in personal combat in defense of my sister and the tribe.

With the aid of harsh training, good hunting by Ygritte, marvelous motivation by way of white walkers, and good genes (considering the number of badass knights born of my blood), by sixteen years of age I was a 6'4 red-haired 300pound horror to other raiders and tribes.

Then the tribe leader was ripped apart three years later trying to wrestle a bear while drunk during celebrations after raiding a rival tribe, there was no questioning who would be the new tribe leader, with my growing reputation and a sister as the head of our hunters.

Fast forward a few days later, a half-starved and frostbitten boy brought the news of a neighboring tribe being raided by slavers to me, while my tribe sat around a well-lit fire I didn't hesitate other than to look at the murder of crows staring back at me, perched on a tree beside my tent I took that as all the confirmation that my tree stuck ancestor was waiting for my decision.

Not saying another word I pick up my Dane axe slinging it over my back then tightening my leather armor straps, that was all my war band needed to start picking up their weapons and readying their selves for the fight ahead, I still made sure to leave the majority of my forces behind if this was a trap to attack our tribe.

Shaking away the memories that seeing the half-starved boy again brought up, I asked "were this all the slavers that attacked your tribe" he shook his head while looking at the dead bodies of the slavers with a mad glint in his eyes and a smile I have heard is usually on my face while blood lusted, I ask his name.

"Its Morald chieftain and there were more as our tribe was closer to the sea, they didn't have to leave guards on the ship or a reserve force".

"do you want to join us," I ask the boy as I see Ygritte walk towards us, he nods his head furiously, tilting my head to the right I honestly tell him "the odds of you dying considering how weary and tired you are now is high"

he doesn't argue my point but he still obviously wants to get revenge or die trying by his hard-set look. I shrug, who was I to stop someone from finding a glorious doom, I rip out a well-made steel dagger I took from the corpse of the slaver's leader, it was no Valyrian steel but it was good castle forged steel. I hand it to him hilt first, watching him walk towards my more experienced raiders to armor himself with something more than the ragged fur he was still putting on.

Then I turn towards my sister "I'm sure your hunters have scouted the ship already what can you tell me", she huffs again replying tersely "you didn't tell me to scout" grinning wildly I reply "just shows how much faith I have in you".

Looking at me with an annoyed expression that brings me joy, she speaks "from what we saw forty slavers on the deck of the ship most likely as guards for the captured free folks and eight on the shore camp, they looked wary as night was a few hours away and the ones sent into the forest had not returned but they didn't seem ready to retreat to the ship".

Listening to Ygritte and the hunter's observation I decided that a front charge like most free folks preferred would not work, grinning savagely as an idea came to mind, I called my band of forty raiders to tell them the plan and waited for nightfall judging from the look on their faces they agreed with my plan wholeheartedly.

Nightfall came hours later and we moved towards the shore with the archers at the tree line half of our fighters with them. I picked seven of the more sneaky and quiet raiders and we crept forwards in the dark, prone with the night as our blanket and the slaver's night vision spoilt by their torches, we surrounded them and a minute later the first arrow shots came and fell four slavers before the rest could realize what was happening the seven of us sprung the ambush.

Standing up behind a slaver I grab a hold of the back of his head and his jaw, jerked my hands towards the right snapping the raider's neck then moving back into a crouch and observing the ship for signs of them noticing our assault as the rest were brought down by blade or fist. it was quick, no signs of alarm from the ship that they noticed so we were good to go signaling towards the tree line twenty people that could swim came as reinforcement lying prone as well and keeping away from the fire.

We gathered at the shoreline before dipping into the water as the waves hit the shore to cover our dip, swimming in the far north was not a hobby of the free folks for an obvious reason but luckily the ship was not too far or we would have most likely drowned or gotten too weak to swim further before getting to the ship, Holding unto grips, and stabbing knives or axes to make stronger handholds we waited under the cover of darkness for the second face of the plan.

YGRITTE POV

Saying she hated her brother's plan was an understatement considering the heavy risks he was taking, but she trusted him more than anybody else so she followed it. Minutes after killing the guards in the dark and moving towards the sea she took the rest of the free folks and took the boats and started sailing towards the ship, They got as close as they could before those on board started getting suspicious as their questions we left unanswered. they started getting agitated with no reply from them, seconds before Angrod struck.

ANGROD POV

We had been waiting and some were already getting tired when we heard most of the slaver's and sailors move to the side of the ship to welcome those that were on the boat as the questions began, we moved again, climbing the ship completely and landing on deck I was one of the first to land. I got noticed a few seconds later by a short slaver before he could raise the alarm I threw the short axe I used to climb the ship at him, hitting him in the middle of the head, the sound of the body dropping was unfortunately loud enough to draw the rest attention by then more raiders where on the ship already and we charged.

Pulling my Dane axe from the back I used the shaft to hit the first man folding him, before cutting down and beheading him. Another slaver tried to cut me from the side but using the axe shaft to block I jabbed at his throat with a free hand then threw the choking man to the side.

The fighting was short and brutal with surprise on our side it was hardly a competition, some of the free folk raiders went to throw down ropes to get those on the boat onboard the doors to the lower when the doors to the lower deck burst open as more slavers charged out with blade drawn, grinning savagely I swipe and try to futilely wipe blood off my face. I discard my Dane axe that had broken in a slavers skull, and I hurriedly picked up a longsword and a shield from a corpse, rushing forward again to give those on the boat time to climb up, I slammed into the first slaver and pushed him to the side where he was finished off by another free folk with a mace.

Thrusting my blade towards the surprised slaver behind the first and catching him in the throat I ripped the blade sideways almost cutting off the head and moving on blood lusted I didn't see the two crossbow bolts that hit me in the chest penetrating my leather armor and sinking in halfway, I drop to a knee and using the sword to keep my balance, only vaguely aware of the scream of rage behind me as everything begins to blur...


	3. Chapter 3

Morald POV

Among the tribes close to The Antler River, Angrod the Red was quickly gaining fame and renown. Known to be a ferocious and lethal raider despite his young age, few were known to have crossed blades with him and walked away unharmed, especially as most didn't get to live or walk away at all.

So, when I was offered the chance to fight with him after my tribe was destroyed and captured by the slavers, it was not a chance I was going to let pass me, but joining his sister on the boat to distract the slavers on the ship was a nervous experience.

"your hands are shaking" came the cool voice behind me causing me to look back at the owner of the voice, Ygritte.

While not as well-known as her brother few around the Antler River were known to be as good a shot as she was

"just a bit" I replied, trying to sound as confident as I could, didn't think it worked since she still looked skeptical "I don't think I need to tell you how to use that do I? she asked eyeing the long knife still in my hands, I shook my head, causing her to give me a nod before moving towards the front of the boat.

A few minutes later we were close enough to the ship that questions were shot at us from above but we kept quiet waiting for the others to spring the trap, not a moment too soon it was sprung as the slavers were getting suspicious and agitated, we heard Angrod's howl the slavers must have been caught completely flat-footed because even from below it was obvious who was winning the fight.

Rowing closer to the ship, ropes were lowered less than five minutes later and I was one of the first to climb aboard. it was pure carnage looking at the blood-soaked Angrod abandoning his broken axe in an unfortunate slavers head, I saw for myself the reason he was called the red.

Blood covered him and none was his, it was all the more striking against his pale skin, pink lips pulled back in a hungry look and uncanny pale purple eyes, it was no wonder he was giving his own space even among ferocious raiders as a calamity unto himself, still the slavers were not done as more burst onto the deck from below.

Sheathing the dagger that Angrod had given me on my belt, I picked up a short sword from a dead slavers grip, moving forwards to give Ygritte space to land and get her balance on the swaying ship, I saw Angrod move again to buy us time with a sword and shield in hand, staining the deck floor red with the blood of slavers once more.

Ygritte must have seen them before me because she shot an arrow towards one of the crossbowmen before I saw whom their targets were but it was too late already with the bolts sinking into Angrod chest, a second later her arrow struck the first crossbow wielder in the eye, the split-second shock the second crossbowman showed was enough time for her to take another shot hitting him on his chest, making him drop the crossbow from slack fingers.

She spun on her feet to look at her brothers' position and seeing him on the floor, the sheer shock at the position her brother was in almost made her drop her bow, then her face morphed into a thunderous expression that reminded you that this was Angrod the Red sister in the blood, more than anything else the roar that tore out of her throat sealed it.

Throwing her bow into the first man in sight and breaking his nose she pulled twin short axes holstered at her hips and moved with all the grace of a furious shadow cat, she ripped into him ripping open his throat and cleaving at the hand that held his sword in a guard position down to the bone before kicking the dead body off in the chest and felling it, then rapidly moving towards her brother with little regard for much else, leaving her side wide open for another slaver to run at.

But I intercepted him. while lacking the strength and the grace shown by the brother and sister or even most wildlings, I was smart and tricky enough to survive a full day with slavers hunting me, blocking the first strike by the slaver reminded me that I was not going to win this contest of blades with my meager strength so I cheated.

Taking a step back and pushing my sword to the side, the slaver overbalanced, and to compensate he stepped forward to regain his balance letting me sink the knife that Angrod had given me into his belly and ripping it out sideways.

Moving to Ygritte back I continued to shadow her as she kept on rushing to her brother, but we were still meters away when another slaver stood in front of Angrod stooped figure, raising his sword high to cut into Angrod's head in a literal overhead slash.

He didn't expect the crow that rushed into his face and poking at his face ripping out an eye before taking off, confused, disoriented, and in pain, neither did he expect that the stooped figure he was about to bury a sword into, would stand through sheer will power leading with the edge of his shield forcing it into his open and screaming mouth, forcing him to reflexively shut his mouth biting at the shield, then Angrod stabbed the waiting longsword into his second eye leading it into his brain and out the back of the skull before kicking the body back in a way reminiscent of this sister.

The short and brutal moment was enough to pause the fighting around long enough for us to get close to him, this close to him his head snapped towards us. Those cold purple eyes, with the manic grin on his face sent shivers down my back. The pause didn't last long with the leader of the free folk raiders on his feet again despite such grievous wounds. The sight was enough to cheer and rally the surviving free folk causing them to fight all the harder, the slavers didn't put up much of a challenge after that with most surrendering on the spot and the others too shocked to do anything other than die.

Most didn't notice how even though Angrod was standing once more he had not taken a single step, only staring death at the slavers. Neither did they notice his shaking hands that tightly gripped his sword, the few that did were wise enough not to say anything.

Angrod POV

Standing with the sheer willpower of a man not yet ready to die despite the darkness creeping into my vision I watch my sister step close to me, she must have noticed how weak I was but she didn't step forward to help me for which I was grateful for. (only close enough to intercept any attack that came for me)

A leader showing such weakness in front of free folks in battle was not a wise and long-lived one and the sight of the slavers shaking in fear looking at me made my heart beat just a beat faster either in joy or suppressed cruelty, I knew not, I didn't think about it much though watching the free folks tie up the few slavers that surrendered I thought morosely at their coming fate but looking at the free folks that were brought up from the lower deck in chains and whip marks on their bodies in just the short while they were captured did much to kill any guilt I would have felt.

Telling Ygritte to take me towards the captain quarters with just Morald for company I let myself drop to my knees as soon as we were within the captain room, setting Morald to watch the door, a split-second later Ygritte was on her knees beside me holding my shoulder with her hands.

"Just hold on brother, you must not have been hit in a vital place if you could still stand and walk a little" she tried to comfort me with a smile but her shaking hands on my shoulder was enough to let me know the smile was false.

"it's okay I whisper to her with a grim smile I'm sure I would be alright"

she carefully removed the bolts as they didn't manage to pierce too deep due to a combination of my armor and my stomach and chest muscles being so thick, it must have been the shock that dropped me and made me weak, ripping off my armor and bandaging my chest and stomach with deft fingers I left her to her assigned duty as I thought back to the fight.

_*Flashback*_

_STAND. BLOOD OF MY BLOOD. looking at the sight of my just confirmed ancestor, the sight of him on a weirwood throne with roots wrapped around and through him, was unnerving. focusing on his single blood-red eye that was looking down on me was enough to bring me back to consciousness fully, and killing the opportunistic fool that tried to take advantage of that weakness was not a challenge_

_.*Flashback End*_

Quickly regaining use of my limbs, but not yet in any fighting shape, Ygritte helped me put on my ruined leather armor. I force myself to stand despite her furious protest doing my best to calm her I try to explain to her

"They need to see their leader sister, and I would love to see my new ship" grinning at her, she finally relents murmuring something about brothers and being bullheaded, I graciously ignore her murmuring gently walking out of the captain quarters giving a short nod to the surprised black-haired boy that seemed stuck to my sister, I guess the sight of a man surviving two crossbow bolt was not something he saw every day.

Grinning wildly, I think to myself that maybe the entire world is not against me. just most of the world. it's a step forward at least.


	4. Chapter 4

Angrod POV

Waking up on my sleeping furs, I stretch knotted muscles while walking out of my hastily set up tent, I try my best to shake off dreams of three eyed ravens, blue eyes and a two weirwood trees overlooking a cave surrounded by ice and snowstorms.

I look around, observing some free folks who had also just woken, I grab a passing one by his arm, then send him off to call Ygritte.

Having done that I look at my ship still anchored. That's right "my ship" i say out loud this time just to reassure myself with a grin on my face to the chuckles of passing free folks. As I look around at my small warband still separated from my main settlement, i start reconsidering my plans.

When I originally found out where I was in the timeline, my main plan was to wait around for Mance Ryder to come recruiting after being declared the King beyond the wall, since Ygritte was with me, that means he should be coming around here to recruit free folks to join him, whereby Ygritte would have joined him as I would have been dead in the original timeline.

But now with the existence of the ship I captured, I didn't have to wait any longer, might as well just leave this whole frozen wasteland but that plan was stymied by the fact that I didn't know how to sail a ship.

While that was not a major problem owing to the part that Ygritte was smart enough to order some of the slavers captured instead of killed on the spot, I was not going to trust slavers to sail me away from the north.

"Brother" Ygritte called out shaking me out of my thoughts, I look back at her and i see the worried glance she sends my still bandaged torso every few seconds. Smiling at her and waving her over "walk with me sister" I tell her as she comes within an arm's length, she nods and walks beside me.

"How many did we lose trying to take the ship" I ask her. Fifteen free folks she replies with nary a thought, trying not to let the feeling of guilt lancing through my chest at the reply show on my face, I keep on walking towards the edge of the camp.

"Go back to the settlement and bring back the rest our tribe with you, it would be better to camp the whole tribe here closer to the ship." She nods at me walking off.

Half remembered dreams of blue eyes and snow storms makes me give a final warning "watch out for heavy snow storms and shoot at anything that doesn't look like it should be walking" (considering those were the trademarks for some of the White Walker attacks in the show and the books). She turns back to look at me for a few seconds, she must have seen something on my face that clued her to how serious I was, nodding back at me she started walking towards some hunters and warriors to pick who would make the short journey back with her.

With that done I look towards the land of always winter, realising just how cold it had gotten recently, which meant that the weaker White Walkers might as well have started moving around and raising wights in preparation for the long night.

Shaking off deary thoughts I move towards the the captured slavers, tied to trees they were wide eyed looking at the surrounding free folks with fear in their eyes. Then they saw me walking towards them, some tried to scramble back in fear, despite the fact that their hands were tied to the trees, while some just stayed still and stared wide eyed at me, Stopping directly in front of them I stretch the silence for a few seconds, letting them stew in it for a while before i speak "who amongst you can sail and navigate?".

They look amongst themselves, not sure how to reply, taking a menacing step forward I repeat my question again this time with a smile that was all teeth. "M..e... Me my lord came the sturter from the blue haired, brown eyed slaver at my right, tilting my head i ask " Tyroshi?" he noded frantically.

Assessing him I figure he was no threat, waving over a curious free folk that was watching the conversation with a grin, "free him, and take him to Thormir, let him teach all he can to him" nodding at me in confirmation the free folk starts cutting at the ropes binding the Tyrosi slaver,

As i walk away from the pair, while ignoring the frightful glances sent my way.

I look towards the land of Always Winter ones more.

Ygritte POV

Stalking through the forest on our way back to our tribe settlement I could not shake the feeling of being watched.

It was not helped by Angrod's parting words, while i was not prone to superstition, the look in his eyes as he gave off his warning gave me chills that had nothing to do with the weather.

Reaching the halfway point a snow storm starts, so I call for a stop, with Morald stopping beside me and panting freely, he must not be used to moving this fast for any period of time, meaning he would have to train up his endurance if wants to keep close to me i muse to myself as we begin setting up camp in minutes the snow storm gets even worse.

Huddling together, after quickly putting up tents. As we cluster together I grip my bow tight as i remember Angrod's warnings about snow storms and strange things.

I release a chuckle as I realised how tightly coiled i was, after all it was not like he was a greenseer or something. Releasing my tight grip on the bow with a chuckle, I wait for the snowstorm to settle.

**Started Exams so the updates might be either this length and very irregular for about 2 weeks. Reviews feed the author.**


	5. chapter 5

Ygritte POV

The snowstorm stopped as suddenly as it started several hours later, but we had lost daylight already because of our unplanned stop and it was getting late so I quickly shook off the cold in my limbs, with exercises that angrod had taught us after the failed raid on our tribe and his subsequent awakening. Just one of the odd but beneficial things he showed us.

Rousing the rest of my company into action they begin to go through the same exercise. Leaving them to that I decide to take a look at our supplies and inventory that were kept in a separate tent in the haste to set up and shelter from the snowstorm, "shit" I exclaimed.

"Attack?" was the reply I got from the hunters around me and in a few seconds the surrounding hunters already had arrows nocked and bows pulled looking to shoot with steely eyed glance. "Even worse, apparently the snowstorm blew away most of our supplies" I reply the agitated hunters, ignoring the relieved chuckles from my companions I pull up the tribe's ancient map, one of the few things that were passed down to the tribe hunters centuries ago and had been improved by chief hunters before me. Luckily for us we were close to a small tribe that had formed a camp not too far from ours a few years ago, the only reason we didn't attack them back then, was the fact that they had so few warriors and anything of worth. So with that decide we could easily go there and trade for more supplies.

It was getting dark already so I gathered the surrounding hunters and started heading there.

We were close to the small tribe now but we were also getting more cautious, from the signs we saw as we came closer it looked like the snowstorm was more focused here despite how impossible it seemed for a snowstorm to be focused on one location. We were close to the little short wooden fences used to stop weaker animals from attacking or escaping, but we had still not heard any sound animal or human,and my hunters were getting ready for a fight, already knocking arrows and looking around while keeping low in a crouch. To a regular free folk the lack of animal sounds might not be so noteworthy, but to a group of hunters it was a very obvious sign that something was wrong.

Looking around I noticed Morald was the only one that had not noticed it and had only pulled his sword out because of how alert and tense the rest of us were.While his lack of awareness was not unexpected it was something that I would have to rectify soon.

Signaling him to stay behind me, while sending the others to spread out, we entered the free folk settlement. Moving through the tents that were open I noticed they were empty, even places where it seemed there was something cooking in a pot I noticed that the contents had frozen over, Morald was getting agitated looking around wildly and I could not exactly blame him with how uncanny and strange everything was. Ending up in the middle of the settlement, I met up with the rest of the hunters.

"Its empty" a brown haired hunter said, still looking around with his arrow still nocked, nodding in agreement I turn towards the others "seems so as well, supplies and every other useful equipment was left behind, doesn't look like there was a fight either, seems like they all just stood up and disappeared, with the snowstorm covering their tracks" the others agree with my assessment.

I look around again, it all came back to the strange snowstorm and Angrods warnings.

"Take only what you need, not an inch more, we are leaving here immediately" I tell them. "Am not taking anything from this haunted place" came the reply from an agitated mousy looking hunter "then don't, but no one is sharing supplies with you extra fur, rope, strings for your bow, even a bloody broadhead for your arrows" I tell him calmly, expecting him to argue, but my resting bitch face must have persuaded him to change his mind to the chuckles of the others. In moments we had packed everything we had and needed and left the snow covered and empty camp behind us, if we moved a bit faster to leave, no one argued or pointed it out.

Tracing the sign we used to mark how close to our camp we were on a tree as we got closer I felt relieved as I felt watching eyes that followed us ever since we left the small tribe camp fade away, and the presence of crows that observed us as we got closer noticing the relieved smile on the faces of Morald and the other hunters, it seemed while they didn't feel the unnerving gazes behind them, they must have still been tense because of our last stop.

"Ygritte!" I looked towards the right we had reached the camp, nodding at one of the watchers that Angrod made to patrol the camp so that we would never be ambushed again. "Where is Grokmar?" I replied the fur covered watcher. "Under the weirwood tree in the middle of camp, how was the raid on the slavers?". He asked with such enthusiasm that showed me he had not fought in anything more than a minor skirmish against another clan during hunts. Shaking my head and taking Morald with me, I let the other hunters regale the young man with their heroics in battle with a slight smile on my face.

Getting close to the weirwood tree, I can already hear grunts and twacks of a wooden blunted weapon hitting flesh. Getting closer and pushing through the observing crowd, I see Grokmar getting ready to spar against one of the younger warriors, with the others watching at a distance. Grokmar was a beast of a man standing at 6'8ft and more heavy muscled than an auroch, with closely cut hair and a braided beard with shades of gray in it, he was an old hand at raiding and fighting with all the scars to prove it, he was also the person that made Angrod the formidable warrior he is now.

The younger wildling was carrying a short sword and a heavy shield, for all the help it would be in blocking one of Grok'mar blows. Grok'mar stood with only leather pants and his chest exposed with heavy beardbraids and scars, with a single hand carrying a heavy wood mace instead of his regular spiked bronze mace. Moving with surprising speed for a man his size, he struck with a wide swing, his opponent was wise enough not to block, instead jumping backwards to dodge the attack. He underestimated how much space Grok'mar could cross in a lunge and paid for it.

With ferocious strength Grok'mar launched towards him like an arrow fired by a Giant, with the expected strength behind it, using the mace like a sword he thrust at his opponents chest, his opponent used the shield to narrowly block, with the only reason his shield arm not broken was the fact that the mace was not a weapon made for thrusting, he still lost his balance from the strength of the hit, having gotten close enough Grokmar lashed out with a leg at his opponent's knee, with a grunt his opponent went to a knee, then stabbed forward at his waist, hoping to catch Grokmar unguarded, Grokmar simply slapped the side of the blade away, then he used his feet to slam his opponent to the ground.

The fight ended in seconds, and that was Grokmar holding back.

Lifting up his opponent with a free hand he nodded at him then told him where he went wrong "If you ever had to fight someone like me and you actually stood your ground to fight, you deserve to die", continuing without any reservations or care for the younger free folk fellings or opinions, " your second mistake was trying to block an attack from me I could have used a bowl to hit you and you would still have lost your balance", from any other freefolk those words would have made the young man angry, but from Grokmar who the only reason why he was not the tribe leader was the fact that he did not care and the fact that he broke the last person that suggested he does so jaw, even when Angrod convinced him to train our younger warriors how to not die stupidly, the brutal fist fight that occurred between them was legendary topic among among the tribe. The young man nodded his head with respect and walked to the rest of his fellows.

Catching sight of me, Grokmar gives a heavy nod, then turns towards the remaining younger warriors waiting there turn to be beaten the shit out off in the process of learning how to fight. "that's enough for the day" the watching crowds disperse with some of the older and experienced ones nodding at me and only giving Morald a side glance before moving to other things.

"The Fool boy survived then" Grokmar stated as he walked closer to me. He must still be annoyed with Angrod leaving him behind to protect the tribe while he went slavers hunting, and it showed in his tone.

Giving a sharp grin I reply just as quickly "even got us a ship out of it too". His only sign of surprise was a slight widening of his eyes and even that was gone in a split second but that was enough for me, still grinning widely after all it was not everyday I got to surprise Grokmar the Grim afterall. "I see" he finally replied after a while "Meet me at the tent then, while I go call upon the other Older raiders, I can imagine the fact that you are here and he is not, he sent you a message to deliver." He turned and started heading off.

"That was Grokmar?" came the trembling whisper beside me, remembering that I had a new shadow I turn around and ruffle the shorter boy hair "Don't fuss it, you would be seeing him more often now as you are part of the tribe now". Swiftly walking towards the biggest tent that usually serves as a place to talk and plan, My thoughts go back to the empty tribe camp we passed on our way and the feeling of eyes at my back the whole journey, I had a bad feeling that something was coming and I could not shake off the feeling that we might not be prepared enough to face it when the time came.

**I keep imagining Grokmar as a dwarf, maybe its because of the name and my latest stint of reading Whfb fanfic on SB SV .lol...**


	6. chapter 6

Angrod POV

I had never been on a ship in my past life before so the rocking waves and turbulent bad weather we just encountered felt especially bad, with most of my crew hanging on to something as tight as they could and praying fervently to the old gods, it would have been hilarious if I was not one of them. Free folks were not meant to be sea folks.

It started well enough, we planned on just taking the ship for a short sail, see how well we did with a few former slavers in our employ the rest of us free folk raiders then we were suddenly hit by a bad storm.

Holding onto the rails of the ship I watch the storm recede a few hours later. I watch the free folks still above deck laugh and share whoops of joy, the free folks where not exactly sea folks, but if we survived and thrived in the frozen north, conquering the seas should not be impossible, I think to myself with a slight grin on my face as I watch them celebrate the survival after fight against mother nature.

Letting go of the rails I stretch my sea legs and gain my balance, with how quick my body was, to adapt to things from fighting to sailing, I was not surprised, it brought to mind a lot of theories from my past life, where a lot of people thought targaryens and Valyrians in general where not completely mortal or human, maybe due to mutations or sorcery. It was not well known but valyrians have been known to succeed in almost all walks of life, with lots of inhuman feats when you think about it.

Shaking off such thoughts I approach our navigator who was using myrish far eyes to look around, a former tyroshi slaver who quickly revoked his crew and joined up with us when he figured out that we needed him alive more than we needed him dead, he was still not completely trusted considering the looks most free folks where giving him. Lucky for him he was quite useful, until now that is. "You didn't inform us about the coming storm" I didn't even have to try very had to be intimidating. "It's the shivering seas I fear, it has always been strange, having weird weather changes the farther away you are from land ever since the doom, it's why most folks avoid these areas so much". Folks he said ,I can bearly resist the urge to snort in amusement, more like slavering fucks.

Looking at him for a few seconds and making him sweat it out, I ask "how close are we to the shore", "a bit far" he answers meekly" now am not just amused am getting quite annoyed, the look on my face must have clued him to my feelings quickly looking around he sees that the surrounding free folk that heard his assessment where growling with hands reaching towards holstered short axes and swords, then he looks back at me and realises I don't even need a weapon to break his neck at this range. He quickly thinks of something to placate us with.

Quickly pointing towards the right he speaks hurriedly "I spotted a ship not too far away though, their ship was absent of a flag, a usually sign of a pirate or slaver ship", looking at the pale navigator I stretch forth my hands, he quickly hands me the far eyes, it was not too different from a regular telescope, using it I quickly sight the ship and true enough it was not raising any flag, it was also moving towards us with speed.

Turning towards the free folks that had gathered on deck even the ones below must have come up, I grin as I look at my mottely bunch of killers.

I was not usually one for speeches and neither where the free folks but I had the sudden urge to say something "We've already beaten slavers and pirates on land, why not on sea too" not a fantastic speech by any measure, but from the cheers they were giving, it was enough for them, grinning wildly I look back towards the incoming ship they wouldn't know what they hit until it's too late.

I ignore the navigator that moves just a bit further from my arm range, stuipid fool, if I wanted to kill him jumping overboard wouldn't have even made a difference.

Our ship lacked a siege weapon so the fight was bound to be up close and brutal, and the free folks would have it no other way. While free folks where not experienced with fighting on ships, they where still savage warriors that knew that you didn't need fancy footwork or sword play to shank an enemy.

Tightening the straps of my new leather armour, I heft my spare axe a shorter one than my broken Dane axe, holstering it at my back, I strap a bastard sword to my waist, it was just the perfect fit for me not too unweildly like a greatsword, but still longer than a longsword, with enough space to grip the sword two handed and put my strength to great use. Done with my preparations I observe the incoming ship, it was a galley just like ours, even better, it also lacked siege weapons.

The Galley was close enough for communication now so I pushed the navigator closer to the rail to talk to the pirates to buy time while the free folks on board got to finish their preparations.

They must have noticed our preparation on deck or the pirates where not just in the mood to talk because the former slaver turned navigator suddenly got an arrow to the shoulder for his troubles, he was smart enough to roll with the shot and got to his back before scrambling away.

"Shields" I roared, shields where held up to block incoming arrow, seeing their shots stymied, the pirates let down their boarding planks. Unholstering my axe I heft it, test the balance for a moment before throwing it at the first pirate that was about to step unto our ship, a split second later it was embedded in his chest with enough force to break his ribs and fling him back and into the sea.

Then the Battle began in earnest, the pirates clashed into us like a tide with free folks pushing back with shields and hacking with short axes. The slavers didn't care about any of that, they where a diverse group since I recognized some tyrosh and ghiscari, that was the only observation I was able to make before an unfortunate fool stuck his ugly screaming face in front of me, unsheathing the bastard sword in a split second, I side step the pirate first sword swing, parry the second he overreached on the third swing as he got desperate, moving in before he could compensate I thrust forward sheathing my sword in his neck.

Pushing the nearly decapitated corpse aside I move to the next pirate that got close enough to me, a snap kick to the knee disabled his mobility, then I hit him with an overhead two handed strike that nearly divided him in two, I rip out my sword to quickly parry away a stab from a pirate that came at my back with surprising speed, if the shocked look on my surprised attackers face had anything to say about it.

Still with a two handed grip on my blade I cleave open the pirates stomach deep enough for my blade to scratch spine, didn't wait long enough to watch him try to futilely shove his guts back inside, I moved onto the next pirate with a wide grin on my fac and a blood soaked sword.

Hizdahr zo Loraq POV

He had a feeling he had made a great mistake coming along on this voyage. Watching the pirates fight against the fur clad savages with barely any armour on them reaffirmed that thought. When they were first sighted the pirates were howling in joy, afterall It was meant to be an easy raid on the savages. The bad feeling began from the moment the hulking red haired brute of a man threw an axe hard enough to send a man flying back and into the sea and it only got worse from there.

He was from an elite Ghiscari family that resides in Merren, he was too good to be among pirates hunting for gold and slaves by himself, but he had been persuaded into joining the pirate ship by a friend of his the captain of said ship, it was going to be an adventure he said. That same captain was also the first person to die as a result of an axe to the chest.

The only reason he was not below deck on his knees was the heavily armoured Sothoryi that stood behind him, the brindled man stood just a bit over 7ft tall and was an absolute beast in a fight, with arms longer than a humans own that held a solid mace, the creature's record fighting in merren slave pits for seven years, (before his family had bought it to safeguard him on his journey)showed how good it had been in a fight.

Watching as the fur clad savages cut through the pirates like wheat was shocking but what really sent chills down his spine was the purple cold gaze of the red haired warrior that kept killing pirate after pirate with nary a blink or reduction speed, with only a few shallow cuts on him to show their wasted attempt at killing him, then purple eyed savage saw him and grinned, the grin died down a bit when he saw the heavily armoured brindled man behind me , then it was back in full force, looking even wider than before, then he started heading towards here, oh gods.

Angrods POV

Shoving another slaver off my blade I start heading towards the red haired amber skinned fellow on the other ship, the sight of the creature behind him had shocked me after all I had read about them in wikis back on earth, but they never came up in the series, the description was accurate enough to guess the creatures identity a brindled man. With longer than average arms that were more similar to gorillas than humans with how low it hung, a sloped forehead and a snout instead of a nose and heavy jaw, there was no mistaking the creature for a human even while armoured.

The fighting was dying down with most pirates dead or surrendering, even the former tyroshi had managed to kill a bow wielding pirate in obvious revenge for his wound earlier, I notice with a light chuckle disregarding the shaff that avoid my blood soaked form, I walk up the boarding plank into the other ship, the red haired fellow was behind the brindled man now I noticed. He was quite huge, even bigger than Grokmar I observed again.

"Your must be the leader of this unfortunate crew" I ask the quite thickly man dresses in extravagant clothes, with jewels hanging all over him. Now I think of it the odds of him being the pirate captain where quite low, no captain would be stupid enough to dress like this and obviously stick out, he replied with a nassaly annoying voice, not that i could understand him anyway, considering he was not speaking common and I highly doubted he could speak the old tongue, chuckling to my self at my inside joke, I lift my sword in a two handed grip with the tip pointing at the pair, that was all the clue the stupidly dressed man had that I was not interested in a conversation any more, with a quick command at the brindled man, the red head scrambled bellow deck, most likely to piss himself, that was the last thought I had before the brindled man swung his mace, and I automatically blocked on instinct, it felt like I was hit with a wrecking ball as I staggered back before regaining my balance. It felt like a ten year old me training against Grokmar again.

I gave the brindled man a bit of space before trying for an overhead strike which was blocked with the mace, the brindled man didn't even look fazed from blocking the strike, it took all I had to parry his lunging strike, then hit with an elbow to its throat as I got inside Its guard, flailing with its left hand it strikes my chest hard enough to throw me back. Flipping to my feet back in a split second with an aching chest I grip my sword tightly with my right hand as I massage my chest.

The brindled man just rubs his thick oak like neck a bit before moving towards me, (ignoring how an elbow hit like that on any other person would have destroyed his throat)dragging his mace behind him and leaving deep furrows on the deck, there was no way I was getting hit by that. Stalling and light probing attacks where not going to work and I doubted I could wear it down, with its inhuman physique and thick armour I had to go for a one short kill. It had the range, with its mace and long arms, but it was obviously not used to fighting with heavy armour, not like I could penetrate it without a valyrian steel blade.

Deflecting and dodging it's wide swings I wait for an opening, a few moments later I get one.

Already enraged with not having hit me, it strikes harder, I side step the attack watching as the mace cracks the deck with the strike. With a heavy stomp I place my feet down on the mace head, stopping him from ripping it out immediately, then I swing at the attached arm at the elbow where the armour didn't protect, with as much strength as I could.

My effort is rewarded with a blood curdling shriek of pain as the arm Is cleaved off, shocked at the odd sound I don't get my guard up in time and the monster hits me with a full on shoulder tackle that cracks a rib and takes us to the railing of the ship, cracking that with my back. Then he heaves and am thrown sideways rolling on the floor.

I stagger to my feet as blood drip down to my left eye from a slash on my forehead.

My hands are empty as I stand, I look around and I see my sword in between me and the brindled man. It turns a second later with utter animalistic rage in its eyes and and follows my eyes seeing the blade too, we lunge at the blade at the same time, he is slower by a few seconds due to loss of balance from a missing hand, his heavy armour and blood loss, such combination on another person would have been a death sentence on its own, but it was not enough to kill this fucker. I duck under a massive fist that displaces the air where my head was a second ago, and grip my blade as I roll beneath his lunging form, standing up and spinning in one fluid movement, ignoring the screaming nerves and bone grinding of my cracked ribs, I swing the blade in a wide arc and decapitate the brindled man as he lands behind me before he can turn around, the head falls off still locked in a snarling visage, then the body drops like a rock, a particularly heavy one i think to my self morbidly, ignoring the surprised look from the surviving pirates and the cheers from the watching free folk and l grimace from the pain of my injuries as I walk towards the lower deck, I was going to beat that amber skinned fucker to death with his own arms, if it was the last thing I did.

It had taken two weeks to lead roughly 4,000 free folks from the former settlement but the tribe had taken the trip. Nearby free folk tribes were not surprised nor curious as free folks were known to hardly settle in a place for too long, watching the remaining tribe members walking pass the barricades set up at the beach to the shivering sea, I catch sight of Grokmar who towered over most of the people around him, he had decided to be among the rear guard to safeguard against scavengers and opportunist, and judging from the blood splatters on him and his mace, he must have had some fun encounters, he sights me few seconds after which was not surprising considering I towered over most men, just like he did.

He approaches seconds later " you look like you've wrestled a giant" was he's observation as soon as he got close enough to see my bandaged chest and head, "it might well have been one considering how hard it hit" I replied with a slight grimace. "Come on, Thormir and Ygritte await us in the big tent".

Entering the tent I wait a bit for the rest to settle, with that done I look around at my inner council what a motley bunch we made, Ygritte leader of our hunters, Thormir as good at organization as any free folk can be while mediocre in a fight, he was not exactly bad at it, then Grokmar in all his lethal glory.

"Any news" I start as I seat my weary ass on a fur seat, Ygritte glares at the fact I got injured in another fight so soon, we've argued about it already and she's smart enough not to bring it up here again.

"Something strange has been going on,'' she finally says after giving me the stink eye "as The tribe migrated closer to the shivering sea, I selected a group of hunters to check out tribes closer to the true north, of the five we encountered two where empty, looking like they had just up and disappeared and all this always happens after a strange snowstorm."

The reaction among the group was varied, Grokmar looked like he couldn't have cared if dragons fell out of the sky, Thormir looked confused, while Ygritte looked anxious.

The white walkers had obviously started moving, Ygritte looked like she suspected as much, but didn't want to be the one to voice it out as there was no proof.

"I see" sounds strange but that wouldn't be an immediate concern for us." I start but am interrupted.

"Why not considering we are not too far from most of the tribes with the strange disappearances." Thormir asked surprised, "That's because we are leaving" The statement left everyone shocked.

"Not too far,'' I continued "hardhome has been empty for quite a while now don't you think so". From the looks on their faces they were definitely not expecting this.

Picking up steam before any doubts where expressed" what are our tribe numbers Thormir?", "about 4,000 free folks chief" he replies a few seconds later with a scratch of his hair. Thinking about it for a few seconds I decide "we have two galleys now, with one being able to carry about 250 people, with two ships that's 500, that's 8 trips in total, it would take a while but we should be able to settle in hardhome in a year or two."

"Some tribes and clans won't like us settling hardhome" Grokmar states flatly. "Worried" I ask with a grin, shrugging his wide shoulders he replies, "Not much, few tribes are united enough to pose a big threat to us". Smiling a bit I continue, "after settling hardhome we can continue from there, won't be wise to make plans to far ahead with how chaotic beyond the wall is". With a nod of agreement they all leave, starting with Thormir going to arrange the transportation, Grokmar goes next stopping a few seconds later to stare at my still Bandaged chest, "when you are healed, you would need remedial training, looks like you've been slacking off, he says with a smile that shows far too much teeth". Shaking of weary thoughts of brutal training under Grokmar I turn to face Ygritte, "do you have something left to say, if not I have to rest".

Glancing at my wounds ones more before looking me in the eye "are the Others back" she starts, without waiting for a reply she continues "those empty tribes we saw brought up the idea, but what cemented it was your warnings, what is going on Angrod" She looked scared and tired, I had forgotten that despite all this, Ygritte was still a young girl, and while we were the same age, I had the experience of being reborn and having a slight case of sociopathy, she had none of that.

Widening my arms she moves in to hug me gently making sure not to hurt my cracked ribs, Patting her head and lower back as she sobs into my chest, I don't say anything other than laying us gently on the fur bed "It's going to be alright Ygritte, as long as we got each other, doubt there is anything that can really hurt us". Ignoring how she burrows into me mumbling my name in her sleep.

**_*Going to be a little timeskip after this_***


	7. Chapter 7

**Kopol: Thank you for Reading, but the fact you think Incest is disgusting is funny considering incest is basically a running theme in the series**

**Dullreign82: In a world where 6'0 is average, you have to be above that lol**

**Osteriecher: I know that, would hopefully re-edit everything next year if I get a beta**.

Mance Rayder POV

"Seven more tribes were found covered in snow Mance, We have to leave here before the Others takes us all dammit".

Mance sighed as he drew a palm over his face the free folk didn't even have the decency to let him wash up, Instead, hitting him with the news immediately he stepped out of his tent, but of course what do free folks know about southern decency.

He kept on walking as the free folk kept on talking, waving off the free folk a few minutes later, he moves toward the meeting tent, giving a curt nod to passing freefolks. More than ever he could feel the weight of the responsibility he carried upon his shoulder when he decided to lead them towards the south. Not for the first time he wondered what would happen if he failed to lead the free folks south of the wall.

The men, women and children that would be lost to the dead, seeing the few smiles on running children's faces and the banter between passing freefolks.

He reaffirmed his decision to get as many free folk as he could away from the grasp of the white walkers before it was too late, even if its just to prolong the inevitable. Afterall what can mere mortal men do against an ancient, tireless and ever growing army of the dead.

Reaching the snow covered fur command tent, he parts it to witness the ensuring arguments coming from within.

"-Just settled there, despite its history, don't know if they are just brass balled or they are just that good."

"Considering they have been in control of that region, through sheer martial might and the fact that they are the only group of free folks with access to trade via their ships for the past year, are you surprised Rattleshirt?". He smoothly interjects into the conversation, pointedly asking the flinty eyed, bone armoured free folk, while he was an average fighter, he was well spoken compared to any other free folk.

"Any news from the scouts that were sent to observe them?, he continued without giving Rattlesshirt time to answer, asking Harma Dogshead, from the glare he received from Rattleshirt he most likely noticed it.

The stout brown haired woman quickly replied "nothing much they've been taking the time to settle and organize but its near impossible to come close with the murder of crows that always hangs around Hardhome recently, come too close and they might attack, we've lost a scout to them already."

" What about the white walkers and the wights, do you think they know anything about them?", Mance asked.

"They are supposedly coming from the Antler river, which is closer to the true north than we are, I would think so, especially since they lit great bonfires at Hardhome every night."

Mance thought about it for a while, it would be a good idea to add them to the group, they had a lot of advantages going for them if they joined his army with him as the King Beyond the Wall, more tri-, "don't even bother Mance." Came a voice from deeper into the tent, a figure stepped closer, straw blonde haired with watery blue eyes and a face devoid of any emotion.

"Weeper" Mance was caught off guard for a second before nodding at the free folk that must have been present from the beginning. Giving a curt nod back, he continued "Am sure you've all heard about their leaders, Angrod the Red and Grokmar the Grim.

Waiting for nods of confirmation he continued " their supposed martial prowess are not exaggerated, I fought against the boy a few years ago when he was much younger, and while the only thing that stopped me from carving his throat open was an arrow to my arm, the fight was a close one. Looking at each of them he continued, and he was just a boy then not more than 15 or sixteen, he would be a monster now, as for Grokmar, well when you see him you will know. He finished Looking straight at Mance, "do you think you can beat either ?".

He left after asking his question, not waiting for a reply, the flapping of the tent covers the only sign of his exit. Mance thought about it, The Weeper was one of the few that joined him willingly, and he was not sure he would best him if it came down to a fight, and if what he said was true then defeating either of them and making them join his army would be next to impossible.

Looking up from his thought, Harma and Rattleshirt had started arguing about something or the other again before he could even bother to separate them again he heard a commotion outside.

Rushing outside with a hand on the knife at his waist, he was followed a few seconds later by Harma and Rattleshirt, the two giving themselves space as they both pulled out swords. He looked at where the commotion was coming from and quickly noticed they were from the scouts he sent a few days ago to other tribes of the 12 he sent only 3 came back, with one bleeding from an arrow wound to the back.

The Weeper was already there listening to whatever news the surviving scouts had brought back, before Mance could reach there the Weeper had stomped off towards his warband, with a bad feeling Mance rushed towards the scouts "was it the Others ?, he asked quickly as he got closer with a shake of his head the scout replied "No, we didn't even encounter any, we were attacked by those blasted crows from the Nights Watch, not more than fifty, and that was the only reason we managed to survive as we ran".

Looking back at the Weeper, he remembered how much the weeper hated Nights watch, releasing a sigh when he realised he would not be able to stop the Weeper from attacking, instead he ordered some of the nearby free folk to take the exhausted and injured scouts to the healers. The Night watch had been getting aggressive ever since they heard the knew King Beyond the Wall was a former black brother and Ranger, but it seemed like the weeper was going to make sure to bloody them, after all they could not be caught between the dead and the Night Watch, one had to break.

(AC 299)

Angrod POV

I woke up in a park, considering i have been living in a land that was stuck in Ice Age for the past ten years it was as shocking as expected.

Getting to my feet I quickly observe the area, I realised it was very close to my childhood home, from the Apple trees, to the swing I fell of when I was 7 years old, It was exactly the same, the only difference I realized a few seconds later were the murder of crows in the trees, over a hundred of them staring at me with blood red eyes and the Huge walls closing off the park to the outside world.

Suddenly feeling self-conscious, I realise I was shorter, about 5'11, black haired, brown eyed, with a far darker skin tone. "Angrod?", whipping my neck to the side, I notice a white haired, red eyed young man with a red mark on his neck and jaw, sitting on the park bench, looking at me with a tilt of his head. He was obviously bloodraven, but I was not meant to know that at least Angrod was not meant to know that. " who are you?" I asked taking a step back.

"You even look different, just as I thought you died that day didn't you?". He asked this time more amused than surprised, I didn't say anything.

" An Old soul he continued, smiling this time with half closed eyes looking lost in his memories, I knew someone like you once, my sister…... she was-, Apologies" he's eyes snapped open again, "That is not important, not right now at least maybe when we meet we can talk about it but we don't have time, And Old soul or not you are still of my blood". Standing up quickly he looked around "you have a well fortified mind, but that is usual for an Old soul, but I can't cast my mind this far for too long, or they will find me.

" My name is Bryden rivers, an ancestor of yours, and something is coming, I know you feel it in your bones, Your very sense of being revolting against the cold every time you are hit with a chill breeze" nodding in surprise and astonishment at how this one sided conversation has been going, he continues quickly "Find me, It should not be too hard, head towards the haunted forest from there someone will lead you to my location, you might be different from the Angrod I saw as a Boy, and your song has changed, but the future is never written in stone and maybe It won't end as badly as it might have." The last part he said to himself.

I put my arms around myself as I suddenly felt cold, looking around again I notice ice forming over the trees and snow falling at the far edges of the park, Bloodraven must have noticed it too, "I have to go now boy, don't forget, the haunted forest", he burst into hundreds of crows immediately and scattered around, taking a step back in shock and to avoid them, I tripped on a root, turning with the fall I use my hand to stop my fall.

Looking around I realise I was back in my tent, sitting back on my fur bed, I realise that if Bloodraven is contacting me now that means shit was about to go down and Robert Baratheon was most likely dead, Damn the free folks for not keeping track of date. Thinking about the fact that the Others were able to somehow follow bloodraven despite the fact that he was a greenseer, I facepalm as I realise the Others most likely had a strong hold over magic, we were in their domain after all so it shouldn't be too surprising.

Standing up, I start preparing for the day, I would have to inform Ygritte and Grokmar about my upcoming journey soon.

**a virtual cookie to whoever gets the itachi reference***

*** another cookie for whoever guess tge person angrod meets in the haunted forest**


	8. Chapter 8

Angrod POV

Grokmar took my news of traveling to the haunted forest alone well with barely a grunt, Ygritte was a whole other issue.

Flashback

"Are you stupid" with a roll of my eyes I tried to speak but she just bulldozed through my attempt like a red coloured wrecking ball.

"So you just plan on going into the haunted forest alone, looking for an Unknown fellow to take you to another Unknown fellow that you've meet only in your dreams" the look on her face showed how much sense she thought I was making.

I tried again to rally my point along but she was getting closer this time with her fist all balled up and her face in a very familiar snarl, which lead to my most esteemed, well decorated and vicious general suddenly remembering he had freefolks to train.

Left alone with the red haired ball of anger.

I tried to diffuse the situation "Its going to be alri-". "Don't tell me that Angrod", she said this time with a whisper before getting close enough to rest her forehead on my chest "you know what is out there more than anyone else, we've killed few wights that must have wandered off and got too close to Hardhome while we were hunting"

Alot of people have an idea what is out there now and you just want to up and leave ALONE" she ended the statement while pounding her point into my chest weakly.

Covering her with my arms, I put her in a hug "Its's because of what is out there that am going alone Ygritte, I cannot put any of our tribe members through that journey" she tried to say something but I cut her off "especially you", I continued killing her budding plan before she could offer it.

"They need you here Ygritte, we can't both leave and leave everything to Grokmar again".

Pushing back against me she turned at once and left the tent, if my chest was a bit wet where her face was, it was largely ignored.

Flashback End

Since I was done with that disastrous conversation, I started preparing for my solo journey, packed some rope, some dried fish and meat which I wrapped up since I won't have time to hunt and I was rather shit at it anyway, then finally my recently gotten heavy steel breastplate and greaves, courtesy of the dead brindled man. The armour was so heavy that only me and Grokmar could move in it, let alone fight and that was because in my case I had it heavily padded.

Turning to my weapons I decide on my loadout, While I was a near savant with a blade, I indulged in the use of axe because of its shear cleaving power and reach, I rarely needed skill to kill freefolks and slavers, and if it came down to it am sure I can kill most men with my bare hands if I really had to, if I learned anything from Grokmar it was how to be the most efficient killer within a hundred miles of myself.

Hefting my new forged Dane Axe, I test the weight in my hands. It was forged from good braavosi steel (not that I knew the difference) but it was a great step up from poorly forged Iron weapons, a merchant ship had passed a while back and when they discovered we were not willing to attack they were very much interested in trading with us, leading to some of the better free folks now wielding steel weapons, and a good reputation for us.

Sloting it into the harness at my back, I pick up a large dagger that was closer to a short sword than a regular dagger, weighing it on my palm a bit before sheating and strapping it to my belt, then I picked up the snow white bear fur cloak that Ygritte had gotten for me as a gift after becoming the Tribe leader.

Putting the cloaking on my shoulders, I quickly tie my hair into a low bun as I step out of my tent to see free folks nodding at me in respect and tapping my shoulders, even a little girl that ran up for a hug before she dashed away to the chuckles of surrounding free folks.

It seemed that news of my journey had spread, most likely not the complete version about who I was going to meet. I met Grokmar after leaving hardhome with Ygritte beside him and a few of the hunters, she had most likely convinced him or at least threatened his manhood into backing her up, they would escort me to the outskirts of The Haunted Forest, she stated plainly without giving me any option, letting out a slight smile and nod as my only affirmation.

I had departed from Grokmar and Ygritte a while back, but I could still feel her starring daggers into my back, oh well. I continued my journey stepping past broken branches and trying to keep quiet so as to not draw undue attention, but that was all for naught since I was too heavy to silence my footsteps and I was basically a wrecking ball In human form.

After a while I decided not to bother and started thinking about the not so mysterious stranger that was going to pick me up. It was most likely going to be coldhands or better known as Benjen Stark, the white walker that decided not to rebel against his creators after he had been created, either that or the Children had gotten smarter and put in safe guards that stopped him from rebelling. Then I felt the chill, unclipping my axe from its holster in a split second I enter a guard stance. All of a sudden I see him.

On a great elk, bigger than most with cruel and wide horns that looks like they were made for the sole purpose of goreing. Coldhands because I was not entirely sure this was Benjen Stark was dressed entirely in a black and grey with a scarf around his lower face and his hood pulled down hiding his eyes.

Still gripping my weapon tight I speak "Name yourself stranger and I might not have to bury my axe in your chest"

Still looking straight at me for a few seconds I start planning on how to bring him down, maybe go for the Elk first. Then he suddenly replies with a raspy voice that made me realise he had been trying to talk for a while now "Bloodraven said I would meet a read haired boy here...………..he might have been slightly incorrect about the boy aspect or his eyesight has been getting worse if he took you for a boy." He said hoarsely, with a chuckle I sheath back my axe, as he continues to observe me. Then he stretches forth his hand when I get closer , with a sigh I avoid his black palm and reach out and grab his forearm and lift my self unto the Elk's back.

I realised something a few minutes into the journey, firstly I needed my own goddamn Elk or horse or Drag…… (where was I even going to get one in this wannabe Siberia) at this point it didn't even matter I strangled the urge to holla and whoop as the Elk raced pass trees and landscapes and when I say raced, I mean it ran like the others were behind us.

Slaming its hoofs into the snow filled earth, finding traction and leaping off all in the space of a breath. I might as well get my own mount after this journey if I had anything to say about it.

Secondly the Elk was alive. I thought since Coldhands was most likely an Undead he would be riding an undead mount but he was proving me wrong as I felt its blood pump as it exerted itself and see it's breath as it ran.

Last but not the least, there was a Fuckton amount of ravens around us. I don't know how I didn't see them earlier but as we moved they moved ahead of us or besides us. I also noticed that sometimes Coldhands abruptly changed the direction we are going a few times which leads me to believe that the ravens were most likely feeding him information on what's ahead making us avoid either hostile groups of free folks, wild beast or something much worse…….Wights or White walkers.

I decided not to think much about it and just enjoy the ride. Didn't stop me for keeping a look out for glowing blue eyes.

We stopped a few hours later as it got dark. We made a rush camp and lit a fire in the middle, I was tired already so I decided to sleep with no energy left in me to banter with Coldhands and he didn't seem interested in talking either.

Removing my axe from its strap at my back I lay it flat on the floor just beside me and cover myself with my bear cloak with my back against a tree.

A hand on my face is all it took to jerk me awake, my left hand went for my axe while my right went to grab the offending limb on instinct and squeezed tight forcing it to let go as I opened my eyes. "Shhhhhhh" Coldhands signaled to me as he lightly rubbed his bruised arm. I went into a crouch immediately and looked around.

The Great Elk was quietly pressed behind a tree that managed to hide most of its bulk. Then I saw them.

The most unnerving thing about wights had to be the silence, no moaning or groaning like I had seen in numerous zombie flicks, with pale blue eyes that had an inner fire in them that showed how unnatural they were, and also how preserved they where.

With most not having injuries that signified they most likely died in their sleep. At least now I was certain about the fate of the missing tribes and wildlings.

Crouched behind a tree with Coldhands close by I try my best to find the White Walker that should be leading them as they were in the hundreds. I see him a few minutes later, riding an undead horse looking half way between the TV shows White walkers and the books description of the Others, showing that my knowledge of canon might not be entirely correct as this world seemed like a mix of both the book and series.

It had pale white blue skin and glowing blue eyes and a face that was just purely in the edge of uncanny valley with short bone white hair. In its grip was a spear with a shaft of Weirwood and a blade of jagged looking ice that unnerved me just by looking at it.

I looked closely at it but it was not the one that was first introduced in the series. I had a feeling that the longer haired white walker was closer to The Wall.

A while later they moved on, but I had my eyes stuck on the mounted white walker, I had watched the series but my memories of it after ten years where not as clear especially after getting corrupted by numerous fanfiction, but I remember that they were weak to dragonglass and valyrian steel, while wights could die from anything ranging from fire to blunt force trauma. I had a theory on the White Walkers but it was still a work in progress.

We rode for four more days without crossing any such patrol again or facing any delays. Finally coming to a stop a few meters away from the Elder Weirwood Tree that served as the residence of the last greenseer and the last group of a dying endangered race.

" We've reached your destination Angrod, I can go ahead no further am afraid" came the hoarse voice of Coldhands, I had not bothered striking any conversation with him as he mostly replied with either a word or a grunt, and I was not the most suave person either so I let it be.

I drop from the Elk and rub its flank a bit as I step away, turning away to face the Looming Weirwood tree I ask solemnly "would I ever see you again".

" Most likely not" came the morbid reply, but I was not surprised, "I will remember you".

"Why" came the surprised reply, "For being what am sure is the only White Walker that will not attack me", dropping that bombshell on him i walk away feeling all mysterious while holding my cloak tighter around my shoulders with a sharp grin, the wind brings chuckles from behind me to my ears as Coldhands rides off into the budding snowstorm.

I lengthen my stride as I see diminutive figures come out of a cave below the Weirwood tree.

As a purple skinned bald haired genocidal alien once said "Dread it. Run from it. Destiny still arrives all the same."

*if the Thanos quote felt bad blame it all Gingi71, but if you liked it well I am the author and I will enjoy your praises……...lol*

*Ho ho ho ho, happy boxing day folks

*If your intrested in being a beta pls PM me


	9. Chapter 9

"My name is Snowylocks and we have been expecting you child, come along" she spoke in the old tongue. looking at the diminutive creature calling me a child, with amber silted pupils that held more ancient knowledge and wisdom than any maester could think about I could only nod my acceptance. The slight tilt at the edge of her lips let me know I had passed some kind of test.

Walking into the cave I feel a sudden tingly sensation at the base of my neck, looking around the entrance I observe ancient runes carved into the walls, the hardened root covered ground and the cave roofs.

Noticing my wandering gaze and my sudden discomfort the Child of the Forest speaks.

"Runes of dawn, drawn at the height of magic with the blood of a greenseer and a rouge young dragon that wandered this far north ages ago", she points pitch black claws at the runes. "at the height of its power the Night King would have died trying to get in here, but now I doubt it would stop one of the lesser Others talk less of the Night King himself, It is growing stronger as Magic fully returns to the world, but the three eyed raven fears that it would not be fast enough, you must be attuned to magic to feel it, and considering the blood that pumps from your heart and through your veins it is expected".

Finishing up with that she keeps on moving, as I ponder her words and observe the cave. Eventually we reached a wider cave and she stops just as four Children of the Forest drop from the roots hanging above us to land directly in our path, with hands on axe with obsidian blade heads and predatory yellow and green eyes observing us.

I take a step back out of reflex and put my hand on the shaft of my axe. The one directly in front pushes past Snowylocks and stands directly in front of me.

It was taller than the others with a well toned lilthe body and teeth of wolves wrapped around Its neck with a string, there was no wrap of leaves around its chest making me realize it was male ……or a female so flat she didn't need to wrap it, I went with male. Dwarfing even Snowlylocks making him stand above the others with his immense height making him reach my……..upper abdomen.

I almost chuckled until I realized that he was only a lunge away from my balls, the fanged grin he shot at me let me know he must have seen my thoughts on my face.

"Angrod, you may call me Three Claw, I have watched you for years, through the eyes of birds, wolves, deer's it matters not, but I know you more than most of your people do and I approve.

He ended his bizarre statement with a nod at me before walking off, leading his fellow children of the Forest behind him as he left.

Looking at Snowylocks for an idea on what just happens, she smiles and says "like I said, we have been waiting for you" with a nod at the cave she also leaves, I start moving into the cave but make sure to start observing the roots hanging above me, no way am letting those low budget elves sneak up on me again.

Walking into the cave I see him, Bloodraven. Sitting upon a throne of wirewood, that must have been shaped by magic, with roots growing out of the throne into his flesh and holding him firm to the throne.

Seeing the real him, and not the ideal version I saw in my dreams I realized that the tree must have been the only thing keeping him alive for this long.

"We finally meet, my child" he says in a raspy tone that reminded me of Coldhands and the fact that he did not speak often.

"Bryden Rivers?" I ask, "I guess it's too late for you to be calling me grandfather,'' he says in jest. Chuckling along with the jape I reply "I could always call you that if that's what you desire".

With a nod he tears his eyes away from my face and looks upwards "you reminded me of him", looking back at me notices my confused look and continues with a sad smile.

My most hated brother Aegor, the one that took my left eye. From your looks to your stature, your delight in battle and those hard cold eyes that look like they could drown the world in blood and not feel a thing. I noticed it from the way you looked at almost everything after you woke up different years ago, so I avoided you and sent Three claws and a few others to watch you for me as I could not bear it".

" Looking back at those times now I feel foolish, I should have contacted you earlier but I didn't, it was Three Claws that convinced me with tales of how you tried to string a bow after your sister did, and you injured yourself and your drive to excel in everything you could to protect her that made me realise that it was not just Aegor that made me Ignore you, it was also the fact you reminded me of a younger me". He ended at last looking at me in the eyes.

"I do not hate you" I say at last, ignoring the way he seemed to sink further into the roots.

After taking in everything he said, It was hard to hate a broken man that had lived past his time and watched everything he ever loved die even the kingdom he lost his freedom because off, who had most likely seen and done enough things that a lesser man would have committed suicide to escape the guilt.

It was hard to hate someone that was so used to making the hardest and most pragmatic choices.

It was hard to hate someone that I knew was doing his best to save this shitty world.

Finally it was harder to hate a supposed grandfather after experiencing the undying love of two grandfathers.

"I would love to hear about you though and am sure Ygritte would love the tales I would bring back" I continue as I remove my cloak and sit on the floor resting my back against the cave wall.

With a relieved look in his eye he smiles with barely hidden joy at the chance to finally relate with a child of his own lineage "I guess we can start training tomorrow, for today, let me tell about the time me and Shiera decided to learn magic………….".

He deserved a day off to be Just Bryden Rivers and not the Three Eyed Raven.

**Grokmar POV**

Another Night, another attack. He thought to himself as a woke up to tge sound of Horns being blown.

Not bothering with hes dressing as he had not removed his Heavily padded armour as he slept, he lquickly grasped his new bronze and steel spiked Mace from where it lay beside him, a gift from Angrod taken off the dead body of the strange creature Angrod called a brindled man, the boy was a strange one, possessing unknown knowledge that he let out like they were well know facts to free folks that knew nothing outside the border of the north.

Ever since he woke up from a hit that was supposed to have killed him. The boy thought most people didn't notice, but he did and so did his sister even if she tried to ignore it most of the time.

But what did he care, the boy had not done anything wrong by him yet. Rushing out of his cabin (a perk of him being him) he approaches the gates and climbs up the watchtowers built for this very purpose with the great fires burning at strategic locations inside and outside the walls every night letting him see the latest attack from the wights.

The attacks had started a few days after Angrod left, not much just a few hundred.

He had tried hunting down Other but It always stayed behind so he satisfied himself with killing the rabble.

"Ygritte, how many?" He asks as he feels a figure move in beside him as he watches from the watchtower. "More than usual" came the grim reply, With a sharp nod he climbs down the watchtower and walks toward the armed warriors at the gate all of them wielding blunt and heavy weapons as opposed to swords after they discovered that it was better to break the weights than cut them.

Giving everyone that looked at him heavy nods he waits for Ygritte's Signal, It comes a few minutes later with burning arrows fired from all the surrounding watchtowers setting the wight on fire, the gates open a few seconds later and he leads the charge, smashing the first wights head with a heavy hammer blow that pulverize its head and spine before pushing past the body and moving on.

The battle ended as abruptly as it started, he noticed like all the battles before today, with the surviving wights retreating and the free folks watching from their walls. He felt like they were being tested, measured, and he didn't like it. He uses his feet to pin down an escaping wight before slamming it with his spiked mace. Stepping of the body he notices the black haired boy that followed Ygritte like a cub, nursing a wound on his leg, most likely from a wight he thought he had put down only for it to stab his calves.

Looking around he observes the bodies of a few freefolk dead, far less than expected due to his training and the influx of free folks that came to join them everyday.

Walking back towards the watchtower, he sees Ygritte coming down.

"We need more help here, most of those that died could have been saved as most died due to multiple injuries instead of a heavy one" she says as she observes the few dead freefolk. Thinking on it he finally decides "when Angrod gets back I will have to convince my brother and his clan to join us.''

" you have a brother?" Came the surprised reply. Holding back a chuckle he nods as he watches the young, old and reserve fighters come out to burn the bodies "Lun Wun Voh Hun, my half brother" he said at last as he walked back to his cabin to continue his sleep.

"Wait a minute, Is that not a Giant's name?…...Grokmar, get back here we are not done talking, Grokmar!!!!!!!!!!".

**Angrod POV**

I have been here for two months now, but I don't plan on staying any longer, Brynden plans on making me a greenseer fell short when we discovered I was not too good at it a few days into my training.

_Flashback_

I was sitting with just my pants on facing Bloodraven as Snowylocks brought the thick weirwood paste she had just finished making. Looking at Bloodraven for a second he solemnly nods at me, so I take the bowl from her hands, bringing it up to my lips and drink it all at once forcing it past my throat. I drop the Bowl as I feel the first jolt run through my spine, I felt dizzy for a second before I dropped.

I woke up a few hours later in a hot spring deep below the weirwood tree, with Snowlylocks behind me braiding my hair like a Viking's.

" what happened?, I ask with my throat feeling like I just drank acid mixed with lemon.

"Rest, then we shall meet the Three Eyed Raven and he would explain"

Resting my head back as she continues to braid my hair, I sleep off.

I met him a few days later, "Grandfather?" I ask as I see him on the weirwood throne with his eyes white, a few seconds later he comes too, shaking his head a bit before looking at me with a calm smile "You're okay?, that's good I feared that you were lost to us".

" what went wrong?" I ask tiredly as I sat down.

"Your Talent for greenseeing is weaker than I thought, with more training and a slower method i should be able to teach you but that would take years instead of months.

While you would be able to Warg, I doubt you would be able to use your greensight well enough." He said a bit sadly, but there is someone else who can take up my burden and I got to meet one of my descendants so it's not all bad, he tried to soften the blow but I laughed it off "I will find a way Old man don't worry about that" I waved him off as I walked off to meet Snowylocks, an idea was already running through my head.

And I found a way to use it a month later after much brainstorming with Snowlylocks.

"Are you ready Angrod?"

"Yes" came my reply as I sat surrounded by Three Claws and three other Children of the forest, chanting under her breath as mist rolls into the chamber we were using she bring the paste, this time rubbing it over my eyelids and around my closed eyes, I stick out my tongue and she dips a claw into the bowl before smearing some of the paste on my tongue.

Opening my eyes a second later, I see and feel a whole new world, everything was extraordinarily clear and focused, that I have enough time to be surprised as Three Claw Moves.

' Suddenly picking up his axe he charges me, another Child of the Forest Picks up a spear from behind and also charges. the remaining two '…….That's all I see before the short vision ends.

Three Claw suddenly picks up his axe and charges me, I am expecting it this time so I am not too surprised, before he reaches me the one behind lunges at me with his spear aiming for my back, I spin on a feet catching hold of the spear.

I enjoy the shocked look on The Child of the forest face before I continue the spin and throw him and the spear at Three Claws, who smoothly rolls beneath his comrade, before getting back to his feet once more. I rapidly move into a guard stance to face three claws, unaware of the two airborne rocks from the other Children of the forest, till they hit me.

Destabilizing me long enough for Three claws to cut me lightly on my chest before I snap kick him away, throwing him against the wall. He lands on all fours like a cat, with barely a grunt from where he hit the wall before standing and grinning up at me.

"It worked" I said in shock, turning around to face a similarly shocked Snowylocks, rushing at her I pull her into a tight hug.

I found a way to use the weirwood paste to induce short term precognition instead of the full thing that greenseers had. It took a month ever since I came up with the idea after I found out that I wouldn't have a way to see the future and the past. I roped in Snowylocks immediately as she was the most experienced with making the weirwood paste, and at herbalism.

But it came with a downside that I should be able to bypass if I practiced well enough.

I was so focused on what I knew was going to happen that I was blindsided when something unexpected happened.

And it lasted for less than five seconds, but I was not too worried about the downsides as they were things that could be worked on.

_Flashback End_

"Managing to find a way to use the weirwood paste after you found out you could not use it the normal way, you should have been a maester" Bloodraven said with a laugh, while I chuckle along, it has been a month and he still seems surprised.

Smiling at me, he continues "I can guess what you are here for and while I will miss your company I agree that you are ready to leave and you sister has been glaring at all my ravens, I would rather she did not use them for target practice." he says with a slight smile on his face.

"But before you go I have Two gifts for you, and a surprising news Three Claws and Snowylocks with over thirty Children of the Forest have decided to leave with you, with them three caches of dragon glass and Old Gods Lore" I was shocked, I had been here for over two months and I had not seen more than ten all together.

Someone steps fort from behind his throne, someone very familiar.

"You can call me Leaf, there are about sixty Children in the caves below this weirwood, and over half of them are following you, watch after them and they would do the same for you" she said coldly. I had a feeling she didn't like me all that much.

Sighing at Leafs attitude he continued "some don't approve" he said pointedly looking at Leaf, "but they have made their choice and we shall respect it"

"My gift to you" he said pointing at the package in Leafs hand I was just noticing "Dark Sister, the Valyrian Steel sword of house Targaryen". Stepping forward I snatched it from the frowning Leaf, didn't care much for her opinion since she obviously didn't like me or Men I particular.

The original sheate had most likely degraded so a new once was formed, perfectly shaped weirwood around the sword, I unsheathe the bastard sword and test it's weight, lighter than any sword it's size should be. I sheathe it back before slinging it over my back with a grin on my face nothing could be better than this.

"And for my second gift," he says, smiling with a forlorn look "The location of a dragon egg an offspring of Balerion The Black Dread ready to hatch with just a little sacrifice.

**Yes I know Dark sister is a longsword, but a long sword feels awkward for someone as big as Angrod so I used The authors creative licence***

**Yes Angrod is now a low budget Witcher LOL, his eyes go vertical, cat like or...dragon like once he uses the paste***

**If the chapter feels kinda rushed its because it is, I would be busy for bout a week and I was supposed to drop this on the 1st of next year but i forced myself to finish it now..…….but mehh shii happens so happy new year in advance……...***


	10. chapter 10

**Angrod POV**

I had never seen warging being performed ever since i reincarnated, except in the series, and I thought it was a pretty average ability considering you would have to be immobile. The Children of the forest proved me wrong.

The way The Children of the forest warged was astonishing. They moved together with their beast in perfect sync, as they rode it, every muscle movement or twitch was replicated down to thier very breathing pattern. I can see how fearsome they could be in the wilds. they reminded me of the Na'vi in Avatar with the way the Navi connected with their mount.

We traveled fast and hard after I was done conversing with Bloodraven, a dragon would be a massive force multiplayer in any fight and now would be the best time to start rearing one and I gat to get me one of that.

"We are close to one of our abandoned old war outpost" Snowylocks slowed down her great elk two days into the journey to tell me as I rode on another great elk (might even create a Calvary unit of great elks with how fucking big they grow) I thought to myself as I rode beside her after a nod.

Few hours later we reached the outpost just as night was approaching, with all the dangers that came with it.

I dropped from the elk as Three claws and Snowylocks argued ahead of me quietly, after Three claws came back from scouting.

"We have scouted ahead and we have news" he said to me as soon as I came within earshot.

"Some man folks have set up camp above the deposit which has since been covered in snow and ice. We would need to break through it to get to the obsidian catches within. I say we go and take what we want and leave, but Snowylocks says we should leave them be and come back again".

I see where this would be an issue between the two nominal leaders of the COTF. Three claws was very progressive, ready to take the world by its horns and break its neck if he could. But Snowylocks would rather duck and avoid as the world came charging at her.

Trying to be diplomatic even though It was not a skill I had focused on considering free folk version of diplomacy was who had the biggest axe "how about I join you and scout again then we make a decision tomorrow morning when we are all rested" I say, surprisingly they nod their agreement after a moment of thought.

With a sharp grin Three claws leads me to the top of a hill where we watch the Free folks from and after a few minuet's i spot something that Three claws must not have cared enough about. Most of the Free folks were hurt and tired, they looked like they had been moving for days and were about to drop dead on the spot, but still forced themselves to create sometimmediatescent of a watch.

We climb back down as I consider the only thing that would have forced them to move hard enough to exhaust themselves this badly. I come to a stop a few moments later and look around, I notice most of the Children of the forest where missing. Snowylocks answers my unasked question after having a look at my face "some are above the trees while some are scouting around, sleep Angrod we will watch over you." With that said and done I eat a light rationed meal and cover myself with my cloak. I sleep. Then I dream.

It was reminiscent of the time Bloodraven pulled me into a dream but this time I was in all my 6'6, 350pound, purple eyed glory covered in a steel breastplate and thick padded leathers with dark sister slung at my back and my hand gripping my Dane axe. I was ready to face the world.

I look around again and realize am back in the park, the great wall that closes off my mindscape is still present but everything feels different, I grip my axe harder ready for anything. I am not ready for the floor breaking beneath me. So I fall, tumbling head over heels screaming with fear and rage and a responding roar greats me from below drowning my own voice. I look down and behold a great and terrifying horned draconic head burst out of the magma below with slitted eyes that burn molten gold, maw wide enough to swallow me whole spitting ash, fire and death.

At that moment I realize I am falling into an active volcano occupied by a very impressive dragon and all I can do is sque ...scream at my impending doom. (no way my voice can get that high pitched, i've got a manly scream goddammit).

**Tormund POV**

He was tired so very tired and still hurt from the last clash with the dead, but he had to keep standing strong and lead his remaining people. The dead feel no pity as they showed when the decimated his tribe killing children and women before he could escape with the few remaining survivors.

But that was still for naught. Night after night what had originally been a thousand free folks survivors that escaped with him had dwindled down to less than four hundred. The only saving grace was that they had enough chance to burn their dead before leaving or else they would have been fighting more Wight's than they could handle.

"How far are we from the closest Free folk tribe" he asked his most trusted confidant at the only one that was still alive. "Roughly about two days to Hardhome, and a day to Mance Ryder's camp" came the tired reply from the brown haired man that looked over their map.

He is cut short from his reply as screams started up from outside his tent, with speed born of experience bandaging his own wounds his whole life he quickly finished with bandaging his stomach where the white walker almost gutted him. The giantsbane quickly grips his war axe and charges out of the tent. The exact same moment one of the free folk on guard duty gets his head crushed by a Wight.

"To arms! Grab your weapons, Children at the back and Lock your shields!!." He screams as he sees the dead charging their barricade. It has happened so many times that the attack was not all that surprising, the Free folks move with speed and strength quickly locking shields together and making a united front with the few children still alive running backwards. "Push!" he screams as they are able to push the horde back long enough to put the horde off balance then he charges into the fray hoping this won't be his last fight as he sights the short haired Other on his dead horse in the middle of the horde looking straight at him.

**Angrod POV**

Am so fucking tired of people waking me up, was my first thought as soon as I felt the light shakes summoning me back to the waking world. The feeling of indignation lasted until I remembered what the actual contents of my dream where about. The screams of death, battle and rage a hill over did not do much to douse my enthusiasm for the waking world.

With a quick nod at the random Child of the forest that woke me up, I move up the hill where the rest where as quietly as I can. Three claws and the Children of the forest crouch there with anger in their eyes.

I look down at what is causing the commotion and my grip on my axe just gets tighter. Wight's fighting against the exhausted and tired Free folks that camped below us and the humans were losing slowly but surely.

"What do we do" came the inquiring voice of Snowylocks as she observed the scene detachedly.

I looked at the battle again, The wights were an estimated five hundred strong, but where their danger came from was in their untiring nature, strength and numbers.

They wore no armour with few possessing ragged boiled leather armour. Some wielded rusted and broken blades as their weapons while the rest had to make do with blunted weapons and their hands.

One man could not make enough difference in this fight, I thought to myself. Even if I could kill the White walker in control, going through about two hundred wights in between me and the White walker was going to be half the battle.

"We are with you all the way Angrod" I look to the left and see Three claws crouched beside me with his hands gripping runic enchanted rocks that glowed blue with barely suppressed energy. I release a smile that was all teeth as I felt the itch at the back of my neck that screamed magic.

Looking back I see the remaining Children of the Forest with spears, bows and arrows tipped with obsidian arrowheads and spearheads and their mounts Great elks, Dire wolves and a giant bear behind us all looking at me with uncanny intelligence. This is the game changer I have been looking for I think to myself with a smile bothering on maniac. I start telling Three claws my plan, the receiving smile I get is as close to mine as a Child of the forest can make, while Snowylocks just sighs at the look on our face.

Our surprise attack comes as a (hehe) surprise to both the Free folks and the White walker, with dozens of Wight's dropping dead from accurate shots by the children of the forest, re-arming their bows just as fast as they fire. The shock doesn't last though as the dead know no fear, they split and start charging up the hill but we had a better position and cull their numbers as they try to climb up with accurate arrow head shots (I take back what I said about low budget elves).

The White walker sends more wights again this time with shock in his eyes at the sight of the Children of the forest. The Free folks morale rise at the sight of helpers that were actually putting a dent in their numbers of wights in the battle, and the fight all the harder for it.

The attention of the White walker is taking from the battle as a battle axe slams into its back hard enough to draw it's attention, it draws back its focus and snarl's with anger marring it's perfect and uncanny features before attacking the red haired man that drew his attention.

Very soon the arrows are not enough and the wights get closer but this time they are killed en masse by the glowing balls of death that unleashed fire and explosions after leaving the hands of the Children of the forest led by Three claws, clearing the ranks of the dead and giving me the chance I'm waiting for, a straight shot to the White Walker himself.

I Charge atop a Great elk with other mounts behind and beside me taking care of the stragglers too close to me letting me move in molested. The giant bear is a few meters ahead letting out it's own brand of havoc with a ferocious roar that pushed wights back, and slaps the more stubborn ones back down.

I grip the obsidian tipped spear harder as I see the red haired warrior on the ground with the White walker spear poised to stab at him.

With a scream of rage I draw its attention from the fallen warrior, it quickly re-orients its horse to face me, in a move that would have forced any other horse to rebel, with his jagged ice spear facing me we face each other in a morbid mockery of a joust. Unfortunately for him he doesn't have the charge and momentum to hit me as I easily bat his spear to the side, with my left hand going numb for a second. It widens its eyes in surprise as I hit him with the obsidian spear as the great Elk races pass him.

The obsidian spear fails to penetrate the armour, but that was not the point of the attack as the momentum and charge of my attack hits and proves by hitting him dead center hard enough to fling him off his mount.

He tumbles head over heels for a few seconds before digging a trench in the snow as he lays still on the snow covered ground.

I quickly jumped off the elk and unsheathe dark sister, severing the neck of the re-animated horse in a single strike.

Before stretching my hand to lift the wounded and unconscious warrior, who I notice is actually Tormund as he looks exactly as he did in the series. Slinging him over the great elk I tap its flank so that it would move away and take him to safety the Elk shot me a look that reminded me of Ygritte when she thought I was doing something exceptionally stupid.

"Move boy, and don't give me that look I'm not going to argue with a sassy Elk" I said to it with a chuckle. it looks at me one last time before sprinting off with its package as the White walker stands to his feet with death in it's eye as it looks at me.

I bury dark sister into the ground as the white walker stretches his hand to grab its spear where it fell. I dip my fingers into a pouch at my waist, before smearing the contents below my eyes, enjoying the sudden unnatural clarity that came with the paste. I grab dark sister once more with my two hands as I settle into an aggressive stance facing the enraged White walker.

"**_WITNESS ME_**".

I roar as I charge the White Walker with adrenaline pumping and a fanged grin looking more dragon like, than man with my slitted eyes.

*I'm back bisshes and hopefully i can get back to releasing an average of one chapter per week

*just rewatched Mad max: fury road..dont blame me lol

*Enjoy...and if you want to help beta this PM me


	11. Northborn 11

**Jon Snow POV**

This was his first ranging this far north, but his joy and excitement had been doused by both the sporadic snowstorms and the creatures they were sent to scout.

They had been sent after one of the rangers, survived the first attack, bring strange news back.

Waymar Royce knelt beside him and watched the battle that was going on below with his hand on the hilt of his sword, grip tight with tension and eyes alight with both hatred and fear as he stared at the White Walker leading the wights atop IT's Undead steed.

Looking away from his fellow ranger he looked around to find the leader of this ranging, Qhorin Halfhand.

Ever since Waymer escaped the first attack by the White Walkers they had been aware that the Old ones were back.

Qhorin Halfhand had picked a few of them to hunt down the White Walker and while they had failed to catch up to it, they stumbled upon a Wildling camp a few meters away, deciding discretion was the better part of valor they kept their distance, but also left a careful eye on the wildlings while going through shifts.

The attack had come suddenly, with screams and sword clashes from below, luckily for the Wildlings they were prepared and quickly pushed back, but it looked like a losing fight.

Then they came, Children of the Forest using their strange magics to help men once more. He could hardly believe his eyes, but considering there was already a mythical figure below them already, what was one more.

The fight went on, men dying to the wights, men standing back up as wights, and wights killing their former comrades. even with the aid of the COTF, it was just slowing down the inevitable.

Then He came.

Angrod the Red, Angrod the Bloody, Angrod the HalfGiant. The red haired purpled eyed Wildling that every news about him brought anger to the Lord Commander almost as much as the news of Mance Ryder.

While it also brought a sad smile to the face of Maester Aemon, anytime news came from the Other side of the wall, his feats in uniting some of the free folks and taking over hardhome, with rumored ships that were said to have sailed as far as the Reach.

Riding upon a Giant Elk, he bowled over close by wights while charging straight for the white walker, with Direwolves, and other strange creatures as Vanguard.

His clash with the White Walker was like a bolt of red lightning that hit It with all the fury of a storm given flesh.

His Spear slamming and flinging the White Walker away like a child at his first attempt at jousting.

The white walker recovered fast, considering any other person would have been suffering from a hole in the chest, broken bones and spine. The purple eyed warrior ignored it, quickly setting his fellow wildling upon the Great Elk before Sending it off, he turned back to the White Walker that had gotten back up, with nary a limp in movement.

The red haired wildling unsheathed a Bastard Sword before charging the White Walker, eyes glowing purple with untapped power and a cry on his lip that resonated with everyone, forcing even the Wights to stop their attack and the Wildlings to look on in shock as a weight pressed down on everybody present, suddenly it didn't look like a man charging the White walker but the embodiment of heat, fire and death as the ice and snow around them was forced to melt.

**_"WITNESS ME"_** came the roar that had no business coming out of a human's throat.

**ANGROD POV**

The only sign that something strange was happening was, the eyes of the White Walker widening in shock as I got closer.

I make an over head swing hoping to end the fight quickly, but IT recovers faster than I expected, moving with elf like grace and batting my sword strike aside with contemptuous ease, aiming for a riposte at my chest...……or that is what IT expected to happen, IT didn't count for my unholy strength as I force the spear away.

IT takes a step back before regaining Its stance spinning Its spear in a way reminiscent of shaolin monks, before lunging toward me spear head first, I roll underneath the attack, having seen it happen before he even moved, before ripping my sword through it's right calve.

IT doesn't even stumble, moving with mechanical precision, it stabs the spear head into the floor to regain its balance, before lashing out backwards with a foot that I know is coming but am not fast enough to escape, slamming into my chest plate and denting it, flinging me back in the process.

When I open my eyes once more, I'm facing the sky, my precognition saves me, as I force my aching body to roll out of the way of a spear strike aimed at my head.

Forcing myself to my feet I feel the effects of the paste ending, making me curse my abyssal luck as I hoped to kill the White walker before it ran out.

All hope was not lost though as I looked at where I had hurt it. It was forced to put the majority of its balance on a single leg as I had cut the other deep enough to show crystalline bones. (So much for hoping IT would burst into ice after getting hurt by Valyrian Steel) "So you do bleed" I say to it through bloodied lips, as I try to distract myself from the pain in my chest.

IT touches the the Injury that leaks blackish blood that seems more like Oil than blood. Bringing it up to its face, with a look that was halfway curiosity halfway apathy, before flipping the blood away "Jweui Hiq Bj hwy pwi" came IT's reply with a voice reminiscent of scratching nails on metal. I feel something liquid dripping from my ears. raising a finger to touch it, it comes back bloody.

Seems like the fucker can even literally talk me to death.

I start walking around to its injured side, it forces itself to turn conforming to my movements. This time it lunges first surprising me, I quickly deflect the spear head to the side, but It continues the attack by slamming the shaft of the spear into me, forcing me to stumble back before stabbing for head once more, this time I am prepared.

I tilt my head to the side narrowly avoiding the spear head. Before grabbing it by the shaft and pulling the white walker towards me, I headbutt it hard, forcing it to stumble back, letting go off the spear, I spin on my feet, aiming to cleave it from shoulder to chest. But the armour proves more resistant than I expected.

Slowing the swing down long enough to get the sword stuck in its shoulder. I quickly get into its space, putting a leg behind it's only good leg before shoving it back.

It reacts faster than I expected, grabbing a hold of my hand as it fell back, then using its feet to push me over its head. At least it tried to before I slammed the heel of my boot into its face, breaking its perfect nose with a satisfying crunch.

Then it Howls with its eye glowing blue, and it seems like something grabs ahold of my soul and tries to push it out of my body. I stagger back, as it goes to stand, face in shock at the fact that I still draw breath.

I grin wildly before I slam my knee into It's jaw, forcing its head to rock back.

It tries to stand once more, but it knows its beaten. I grab it by the neck before lifting it up, " no man can kill me". It says, this time in the Old tongue, fucker just gave me the perfect line. "I am no man" I whisper to it before shoving Dark Sister beneath its jaw, straight to its brain, before ripping my sword out and I let the body fall.

For the first time I look around, and notice that where we fought was more water than Ice, and the wights were dropping back to the ground as dead as they began.

Then the shouts started.

"**_WITNESSED"_**

**_"WITNESSED"_**

**_"WITNESSED"_**

**_"WITNESSED"_**

**_"WITNESSED"_**

**_"WITNESSED"._**

Surviving Free folks were screaming out loud, while banging their swords on their shields. Raising my sword high just got them screaming even louder.

'Thats me' I think to myself looking up at the sky as it clears and I feel the sun on my skin for the first time in a while, with a smile on my lips and cheering Free folks around me, 'making the world better one Dead White Walker at a time'.

***Lost my fingernail on my thumb in an accident last week, couldn't type alot as it hurt too much, so just decided to round it up and drop this***

***Felt like this chapter came out strange, but i just decide to post it anyway, whenever i get a beta reader, i might come back to edit***


	12. chapter 12 (02-17 14:06:49)

**Melisandre POV**

She dreamt about him once more, this time his metaphysical weight was heavier, despite the fact that he has always been shrouded by the power of the Great Other, it was never enough to completely block his fiery presence.

So very often does his light shine, like a candle in the midst of a snowstorm, that somehow keeps getting brighter and burning fiercer despite the odds.

This Time was the brightest, his choices made drawing a ripple in fate that drew the attention of anything with even the slightest spark of magic, if was rare for a servant of the Great other to fall after all.

She thought to herself with a dark chuckle as she rose up from her bed with feline grace.

Keeping her balance in the living quarters of the ship as it was buffeted by waves and wind. She knelt in front of the glass candle and lit it with a slight flex of her will and with the aid of her god. Trying to peer through the shroud of the Great other was easier this time, if only because there was one less being to manifest its power through.

She saw him again, hair so red she could have mistaken him for a relative and eyes that all but glowed purple with power that would rival his ancestors given enough time. But even with the death of one of it's vessels, The Great Other's grip on the North was too firm for her to even consider contesting but the sight of one of her god's champions was heartening.

With a snap of his neck he turns and looks her straight in the eye, grip tight on a sword that has bleed both the mundane and the Supernatural with ease. Despite the absence of a glass candle, he observes her with a furrow of his brow before his eyes widen in sudden surprise.

A split second later and frost and ice starts to form over the glass candle before it cracks with a sudden snap that forces her back a few steps, something tries to use the connection made to attack her.

Smiling with a serene expression on her face she slides a dagger free from its sheath beside her laps and cuts her palm deeply letting the blood flow smoothly she speaks "you've overstretched your bounds, slave of the Great enemy" a wild grin tears through her face for a moment as she feels the presence of her god at her back as the choker upon her neck grows hot.

" and so far from your domain. I will make you regret it". The blood strangely flows towards the glass candle, slipping into the cracks that surround it despite the aura of cold and dread that surrounds it.

_CONPESCO_

She snarls out. with a single word the blood congles and solidifies in seconds, the servant of the great other realises what she was doing and tries to bring forth its full metaphysical weight.

But this far away from its domain and Its concept, it struggles to contest against her iron will and her god's presence behind her bolstering her metaphysical might and forcing it to give ground.

A storm forms above the ship. The Sea around them writhes in agony at the battle fought. The false god the ironborn worship stirs in the depths whilst its children ready themselves to pull open its gate.

Knowing it fights a losing battle, it forces itself to disengage, but it's too late for it to escape unscathed.

_CORUSCARE_

The blood suddenly turns magma, hot enough to melt the candle and severely hurt the presence of the servant of the Great other within. with a scream of agony and surge of power, it wrenches its hurt presence away blasting her out of her cabin and slamming her into the hold. She forces her bruised body to look toward her thoroughly battered cabin and let's forth sudden barks of laughter at her accomplishment, despite her injured and hurt form. The sailors aboard the ship make sure to avoid her till she drops at dragonstone.

**Grokmar POV**

He forces his way through the storm alone, 'most people' would have thought it extremely stupid or sucidal to wander the frozen north alone, without help or aid especially with the creatures that prowl the night seeking the heat of the living.

'Most people' were broken corpses, twisted limbs and sunken heads a few steps behind him.

He stops for a few minutes to clean off the brain fluids and parts that were still stuck to it, then checks his injuries most of which were not deep enough to hamper his journey. He shrugs them off knowing his constitution would make them irrelevant in a day or two.

He notices the storm seemed especially wild today, with the cold wind digging deep into his muscles, before a sudden hoarse scream of pain forces him to his knees for a second, it strangely stops as it began, with the only sign that something important had happened being the blood that drips down his ears and the sudden dispersal of the snowstorm, he shrugs the strange happening off and moves on, he was a simple man after all, he would leave the deep thoughts to Angrod. Pushing through knee high snow, high enough to reach his upper calves. He forces his way through slowly but surely.

Few knew of the hills between the Fist of the first men and Antler river, the few that did know of them avoided it like a nest of dragons. They were wise to do so, he thought to himself as an arrow slams into the tree beside him.

Thick enough that it could be mistaken for the limb of a man. He grabs the arrow and rips it from the tree, tests the balance in his hands before he slams it into the snow with all the force he could muster with his inhuman frame.

Dropping his mace and releasing the catches of his leather armor. He steps forth unarmed and unclad from the waist up as the wind blows, roughing up his beards and sending shivers down his spine, but he ignores it all. he bellows out a challenge as he sees dark shapes forming past the treeline.

A Heavily bearded giant walks out of the treeline, dragging a wooden club, with a thick bow strung behind him. At fourteen and a half feet tall he was twice Grokmar's height, and three times his width.

With a sudden bellow of laughter the giant drops his weapon and charges Grokmar.

"This is going to hurt" was the last rational thought he had before he roared and charged his brother back.

**Ygritte POV**

She sat at a table in the center of hardhome where she received most newcomers into the tribe on behalf of her brother.

Morald stood behind her to the right side his sharp eyes on the people that came close by. He had grown into his form well after the departure of Angrod, watching her back clad in leather armour with bands of steel woven into it, with his hand never far from his sword.

Thormir stood to her left the brown haired, clef jawed shipbuilder was an easily forgotten man, with his plain features and dour look, but he was known to be trusted by Angrod and that is all that really mattered.

A child comes close enough to whisper to Morald before she runs off again to play.

"They are coming" he says, his voice as usual so low it's almost a whisper. Nodding her head to show she understands. A few seconds later she sees them approach, walking boldly, despite the suspicious looks levied upon them.

The one at the head sits directly in front of her with the other two directly behind him in a parody of what she had going on. She sits relaxed and watches him with half lidded blue eyes that were so bright they could be mistaken for purple in the right light, her expression the epitome of boredom.

"I request to see Angrod the red, I bring news from the King beyond the wall" he speaks with a booming voice out of place with his gaunt face and honey brown eyes.

"My brother is…...absent……...for the time being, I speak for him, for now let me know what news you bring" she tilts her head still looking at him with those half lidded eyes "and Mance Ryder is no king of ours".

He frowns heavily as he looks at her, before dismissing her and looking around " then I will speak to Grokmar the grim then, if he would have me". She chuckles this time with a growing Cheshire grin on her face as she observes the man that had the gall to dismiss and ignore her " he is on a….. quest……. of his also" she says this time her voice low and almost a purr.

He makes to stand this time a glare on his face as he looks at the surrounding free folk "Is there no real man here to speak to….." Is as far as he goes before she moves like lighting, grabbing hold of his greasy hair then slamming his face into the table with a loud crack that told tales of a broken nose, she smoothly buries her hatchet beside his head close enough for him to have felt the blade passing by his ear.

The man at his left reacts almost as soon as it happened, but not as fast as morald who unsheathes his sword and places the tip of it on the man's neck a split second after Ygritte moved.

"I have half a mind to cut open your throat and send your body back to Mance Ryder, but that would be too bloody and I'm meant to be the lovely twin" she says as she whispers into his ear "tell Mance Ryder that the next time he sends a half baked fucker that disrespects me again, I will show him that I also earned the title 'bloody' I only chose not to flaunt it" her voice sends visible shudders down his body.

Slamming his head once more for theatrics she lets him go as he cradles his broken nose. Standing up she looks the watching free folk that had grown and swelled to watch the byplay in their eyes, this performance was not just for the sake of the messengers after all, it was also to show them that while she did not have the reputation her brother and Grokmar had, she was just as good and didn't fall too far from the tree. The nods of approval she received, released knots of tension and gave her a sudden feeling of acceptance she didn't know she needed, good thing they had not broken bread and salt yet.

***I once read somewhere that asoiaf was a High fantasy that pretended to be a low fantasy that sometimes acted like a mid fantasy, I totally agree with that.***

***And my finger is way better thank you all that wished me well..***

***I plan as i write, I only have the broad strokes in my head so I might diverge a lot, enjoy, read and review the spells used are in latin btw, you can go google them.***


	13. Chapter 13

ANGROD POV

We were a day away from Hardhome. I rode on the great elk, which was rapidly turning into my personal mount, Until I got my own winged, armored, fiery magical furnace of destruction whose very presence and ability to fly broke the law of physics over its scaled knee.

Riding at the front of our host of wildlings and children of the forest, I thought back to my experience a few days ago. I was simply experimenting with the weirwood paste on ways to increase the length of time my senses where supernaturally sharp when I felt the tingling at the base of my neck which I associated with magic.

It was different this time though, like it had its own feeling, a warm heat accompanied the tingle and the presence felt old and young at the same time. Either I had gotten better at sensing magic or I just never noticed. shocked I turned to look around, hand on dark sister ready to end the threat, when I saw her.

Melisandre. For a second, I thought I was hallucinating, until she smiled her eyes lit up in wonder and joy. Then everything ended a second later with a sudden storm even worst than the usual, it didn't last long luckily for us but I could bet I heard a scream of pain as it ended. Judging by the way the children of the forest were on guard, eyes flitting around more than usual, ears that twitched with every new wind, it seems I wasn't the only one that heard it.

He came running up to me, breathing hard and with his hands-on shaking legs as he stopped beside me to catch his breath. '' he's awaked, the Giantsbane is awake. He said while trying to catch his breath. Nodding towards him, I ride the elk away.

I had been waiting for Tormund awakening. He had a rep, and was as good as any man raised north of the wall. Moving towards Tormund I noticed them again, wearing whatever patched furs they could find that was as dark as mine, most held Dane axes, or the shorter variant with a shield to compliment, they also had maces of dragon glass, taken from the cache just beneath the battle ground. Another thing that made them stand out was the war paint just below their eyes. Reminiscent to the way my paste looked.

Snowylocks had been the one to draw my attention to them with her usual serene smile, she said they called themselves '_vitna'_ for they witnessed me. I was still not sure about what I felt about them so I just put them out of my mind once more.

I finally got to the middle of the column, somehow on my way there Three Claws had decided to follow me. Looking at where the injured where kept to be protected I found him and to no one's surprise Tormund was trying to wrestle off two wildlings advocating for him to continue resting with one the same shade of red hair as Tormund. And even while injured, he was winning.

''Giantsbane'' I called out as soon as I got close enough, dropping down from the elk and walking towards them with a smile on my face. time to use all that unused charisma Targaryen's where known for.

''yeah that's me, now help get these young fools off me, before I bash in the head of one of them'' he grumbled out loud while still trying to still wrestle his way out of the improvised stretcher.

''let him be, if he says he's strong enough he must be'' they let go of him a second later with the red haired boy scowling heavily at him. ''get me a cup of mead boy, I'm not going to die from a little gut wound'' considering said gut wound was bleeding once more due to his movements earlier I was not so sure, I chuckled a bit before sending for Snowylocks as well.

''I saw you kill it, even while I was wracked with pain and halfway dead" he started before I could say anything.

"your battle cry forced me to, and it was glorious'' he said with a faraway look on his face.

''killing the fucker was even better, so if you are here to convince me and my war band to join you, you're already too late… because we are with you already'' he bellowed out the last part of the statements causing the free folks listening to cheer loudly.

I fucking love the free folks, I think to myself with a sharp grin on my face, they've got to be the most uncomplicated people ever. Stretching out my hand to grip his, he forces himself to his feet almost the same height with me, in another life he could have been my father.

After the manly griping of forearms that lasted for a few seconds, in the 21st century whoever took a picture of us at that moment would have won awards for all the masculine energy going around that he managed to capture.

I noticed the slight shaking of his legs so I made him relax on his improvised stretcher once more. ''I'm glad you decided to join up, a man of your reputation would do wonders for our group once you've rested and healed up well.

Looking up, I see Snowylocks and the red-haired boy coming, ''here comes your mead….and medicine my friend". Whatever smile he was about to form died off the the moment he heard medicine. Walking back towards my elk, I see Three Claws beside me once more, ''where were you during the talks?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I just followed to see the man himself, even we have heard of the Giantsbane. That he lasted long enough against the white walker with only a steel axe at hand, says a lot about his bravery and strength of arms"

I looked at Three Claws with surprise on my face, "you almost sound like you admire him" I turn to climb my elk, when I look around once more the diminutive child of the forest was missing.

Rubbing the neck of my elk, "I really need to give you a name", I said out loud, the elk snorted, I had a feeling it was saying 'about time you did'. With a chuckle I ride off once more to the front of the column, sparing only a nod to the two _vitna_ that rode a few paces behind me.

YGRITTE POV

"knock, take a deep breath, feel the wind, aim….and fire!"

With that shout she released, watching the arrow soar, before rapidly knocking another arrow and releasing it. The first shot hit the armored target in the right eye, while the second hit the un-armored throat.

With a smug grin she turns to watch her rangers, what was once a mediocre forty in number had swelled to almost two times that number. They were the best of the best, the one's expected to make head shots against the Wight's while the remaining archers just rained down arrows, after all her brother always said quantity was a quality of its own.

She observed their own targets, most of them struck the head the head of the targets as expected of them, now she just had to teach them how to rapidly fire and still maintain acceptable accuracy.

Leaving them to continue with training she started heading off to equip her hunting bow and arrows, it was tiring helping the free folks that escaped random attacks to settle in while dealing with the sporadic arguments and fights that always seemed to pop up.

Shaking the morose thoughts off, she planned to relax on the hunt not take her problems there as well. That's when she heard the horn, a signal telling of a coming attack, rushing off she quickly equipped her hunting bow and leather armor before running off.

The white walkers had never attacked during the day, so what changed. Bypassing free folks that were moving into defensive positions. She reaches the tower, closer to the gates.

"An attack?"

"we are not yet sure" came the reply from Thormir, standing at the opening, she moves beside him and tried to see what he was looking at. A host of armed free folks moving towards Hardhome. She tried looking around for a specific shade of red hair hoping against hope that just maybe it was Angrod, but Thormir answered her unasked question.

"I greatly doubt he's among them, the scout that spotted them said the Weeper and Mance Ryder were spotted conversing"

"shit!, how many"

"about five hundred, so it's definitely not an attacking party"

"but it's a threat" she realizes and speaks in a low growl, before a grin that was seen more often on Angrods face split her lips.

"well let's go meet our guests then"

MANCE RYDER POV

Standing a few meters from bow range he orders the warband to stop. Hardhome was almost in penetrable he realized, without a great loss of life. If it was south of the wall, then siege weapons could be used to assist in taking down the walls, but this was not south of the wall.

The free folks had no maesters to keep notes or records, nor the need to use siege weapons. He heard the horn before they reached the gates, and when they got there the gates had already been shut, with archers stationed strategically on towers. Ready to bury them in a hail of iron if necessary.

Adjusting the strap of his sword to his waist, he fixes his cloak around his shoulders before moving forward, "Weeper, Rattleshirt with me" he orders as he forges ahead. Looking around he idly observes the huge black spots on the ground where the snow had not covered up what had happened just a few days prior.

The gates open a few minuets later, the contingent that comes out are led by a red haired girl, Ygritte he assumed, followed by less imposing or noteworthy people.

Seemed like Angrod really wasn't present, just maybe without his presence he might be able to convince her to join him, he could be very convincing if he needed to.

They met in the middle still away from bow range, but also far enough from his band that should they have reason to flee, he might not be able to stop them.

"you are the crow turned wildling king eh? how does that happen" she starts the moment she gets close enough, this close he noticed most of her group where covered with proper steel breastplate, the perks of having a ship and port.

"an aggressive beginning to a supposed peaceful discussion" the Weeper softly speaks up beside him, loud enough to hear with a tilt of his head, his pale wet eyes observing the red haired girl a few steps away motionlessly.

"do you remember me child?" he speaks again, he takes a step forward this time, his hand drifting to the scythe on his hips, face still serene. She takes a step back and knocks an arrow in a split second but doesn't aim it. He can spot fear in her eyes, but also determination. He idly takes note of the boy that steps closer to her ready to lunge forward and give her the time needed to take the shot.

"that's enough weeper" he had seen the girl was ready to fight if it came down to it, and the boy close to her must be a treasured companion. The weeper had done his job.

"no need to antagonize her, we are all friends here right, so I will answer your question. I was born a free folk, taken away when I was a child and raised among the brotherhood of the watch, as I grew older I noticed I didn't like the restrictions put on me so I left to be free, and came north of the wall, just like my ancestors and yours before us."

Drawing on a person's sympathy and their shared belief was a good way to make friends and allies, judging from the way two members of her group gave him nods of approval, it seems it was working.

"doesn't explain why you took up the title of King Beyond the Wall. But I don't care all that much. What I do care about is why you are here Mance?"

She was still very wary, he couldn't blame her all that much, here she stood before three famous and feared wildling leaders and she was standing her ground better than expected. He was about to come to that when Rattleshirt interrupted, the clacking of bones on bones signaling his presence as he walks up.

"who are you to question our leader girl, you strut out of your walls with confidence and a bow and arrow in hand. Left to me I would have gut you, taken Hardhome and grinded your bones to dust because you are not worthy to be worn"

Rattleshirt had always been impulsive, but this was not part of the plan, in fact his only part in the plan was to stand there and look all menacing, for the first time he regretted not leaving him behind and taking Harma Dogshead instead.

"does he speak for you?" she asks this time looking at him.

He cannot say no and openly disparage Rattleshirt as that would simply show a rift to others, but the look he gives him is enough to show he is displeased. Rattleshirt ignores it.

"then we have nothing more to say to each other." She's smart enough to not immediately turn her back to them and that saves her as Rattleshirt looks ready to lunge at her, sword in hand already.

The tension between them escalates at the sound of horns behind them, unsheathing his own sword he looks behind waiting for an ambush only to see his warband split in the middle as two red haired men ride a Great elk and a horse respectively forward.

Looking behind he sees a host comparable to his just behind putting his group between the just arrived group and Hardhome. He had never been in a worst situation than this. A whispered "Angrod" behind him forces him to focus his attention on the just arrived, the moment they drop from their mounts he knew who he was without any other input.

Red hair a few shades short of dried blood, purple eyes that seemed to glow a bit, he was armored with a heavy steel plated armor that made the already big man look bigger, a sword sheathed behind him with a strange hilt and a white bear cloak on his shoulders.

Walking like he knew he was the deadliest fucker around for miles, with a sharp grin on his face and eyes that only took note of their positions without really looking at them. he headed straight past his group, his gaze lingering only on the Weeper long enough before walking pass to embrace his sister in a tight hug. Giving a nod to the boy beside the girl he turns back to them and raises an eyebrow at the sight of them with their weapons out.

The weeper is the first to hook back his scythe to his hips, his hands not far from them and his already weeping eyes stay focused on the red haired man. Taking in a deep breath he sheathes his weapon as everyone does so as well.

Knowing at that moment that convincing the red haired obvious Targaryen bastard or Valyrian descendant to join him was a lost cause.

**NOTE**

**AS SOMEONE POINTED OUT, GROKMAR WAS SUPPOSED TO GO AFTER ANGROD CAME BACK BUT I FORGOT, HOPE IT DOESN'T TAKEOUT A LOT FROM THE STORY**

**THE VINTRI ARE MY VERSION OF THE WAR BOYS SINCE SOMEONE WAS INTRESTED. GO LOOK UP THE WORD IF YOU ARE CURIOUS.**

**READ, ENJOY AND REVIEW.**


	14. Chapter 14

MANCE RYDER

He observed the child of the forest that surprisingly joined them. as he thought of ways to escape the situation The lord of bones had put him in.

There was nothing child-like about the creature except it's diminutive stature, with eyes that took over half its face and uncanny sharp features, registering emotion on its face was a challenge.

The Child of the forest stood beside The red haired man, and observed them just as much as he did, its wide unblinking stare making it all the more unnerving.

"We came to offer aid and alliance" he started with a forced calm voice, the red haired man was not looking at him though, he only had eyes for the lord of bones.

The other red haired man, who he easily identified as Tormund the giantsbane stood readily to the side, obviously hurt, but it didn't seem like it would affect his ability to swing the axe held in his hand.

The lord of bones must have been really unnerved by the purple eyed stare as he started fidgeting, a hand on the hilt of his sword.

"You came with threats and barred steel" came the harsh voice of Ygritte. Three Fire kissed free folk looking at them with hostility, where the sight of one was rare enough, he thought idly despite the fact that violence was about to break out.

_He wakes__He walks__He's hurt__He Rages_

_And So... he He Hunts_

_And yet Men still squabble_

A melodious voice spoke in a serene tone, the words bringing a chill to his heart, striking fear into him and dragging forth racial memory of something that hunted his ancestors close to extinction eons ago.

"Snowylocks" Angrod addressed the recent addition, turning away from the lord of bones for the first time.

He also turned only to raise his eyebrow at the seeming albino looking Child of the forest, bright and curious slitted eyes stared at them.

"Are you not scared of death" she continued this time she had eyes only for the lord of bones. "You should be, death is not the end... if only you know what comes after, but your ego is fragile, so much like your mind, isn't it… Bael"

The lord of bones stumbled back, eyes wide in something that Mance would have called terror on any other man's face, with hands that gripped the hilt of his sword, now slack. He turned and staggered away, almost tripping over his feet in his haste to leave the Child of the forest and her words behind him.

"Stop scaring off my guest Snowylocks" Angrod said a laugh in his voice, "i would have rather caved in his skull, let's hear what you have to offer".

ANGROD POV

Standing in a tower with Ygritte beside me, I thought about Mance's proposal as I watched him and his warband leave. He really didn't have anything to offer other than aid in battle against the Others, and that's a given considering it was impossible to win this war on this side of the wall, he Obviously came hoping to swindle Ygritte into joining him, he was not expecting me back so soon.

When he saw there was no hope of that happening he switched tactics.

Seeing the weeper was a surprise, as I feel phantom aches from where he almost gutted me when I was younger, I don't remember him joining Mance in the series, but that was years back and my memories are not as clear about the little details.

A hug from behind draws my attention.

"Being a tribe leader is suffering" Ygritte spoke into my back, muffling my chuckles I reply, "Why do you think I left it to you and ran away" The light tap at the back of my head forces me to stop muffling my chuckles and let out a booming laugh. It's good to be home.

I stood before three of my vintri, they circled me, while I stood in the middle bastard sword planted in front of me. I observed them casually as they moved, the one in the lead was almost of height with me standing at close to 6'4 he was the perfect image of a Viking.

He's blond hair was braided back, same as his beard, his eyes a baby blue made him look almost noble while he gripped a great sword in his hands. To my left was a brown haired, brown eyed plain woman, the most remarkable thing about her had to be how unremarkable she was, she wielded two short axes and the last person was of average height and held a long hunting spear.

I waited for them to make the first move. The brown haired vintri suddenly roared in a very familiar way before charging at me and catching me off guard with surprising speed, she swung her two axes together in am overhead slash that I avoided by side stepping and slamming my elbow into the side of her head.

Before I could finish her off, the blonde haired viking came swinging, almost matching me blow for blow, slowing me down enough for the spearman to come charging at me in a surprise attack that wasn't so surprising considering I could hear him coming.

I blocked the blonde vintri's final strike, before pushing him back forcing him to stumble.

That was all I needed.

Pivoting on the spot, the spear grazed my cheeks and I stepped into the spear man guard, his eyes widened in surprise as he realised his mistake, but it was too late.

Smashing my forehead into his face, I didn't give him the chance to stagger back before I grabbed him by the throat, I spurn and flinged him at the charging swordsman.

I was distracted watching them and paid for it, the axe wielding vintri slammed her axe into my back, parting fur, flesh and muscle digging deep.

I spun on my feet in pain and anger a roar stuck in my throat, as i hit her with a backhand that send her to the floor, she was tough though, rolling with the blow and getting back on her feet, a manic grin pasted on her face as her left hand still gripped her second axe tightly.

I stretched my hand back and ripped the axe embedded in my back out as I let out a grunt of pain.

The blonde vintri was back up but the spearman was knocked out. After cracking my neck and checking to see how much the injury affected my range of motion I grinned back before letting out a roar of mine and charging back in I still had to put them down before blood loss got me.

"Letting yourself get hurt this badly, if I didn't know you I would have thought you were hunting for death".

My grunt of pain was my only reply to Ygritte as Snowylocks continued to rub her medicinal paste on my injuries.

"At least you guys made a good show of it increasing morale in camp" after a sigh I replied "That was the point, and since we now have access to magical healing, we can push further than before".

A raised eyebrow was my answer before she stormed out huffing something about being surrounded by masochists.

"She cares and worries for you" Snowylocks spoke as she came to my front before handing me a foul smelling liquid to drink.

"I know, but we have to get far better than we are now if we want to survive what is to come"

She looks away, towards the far north, even inside my own personal chambers with a lit fireplace, the cold could still be felt.

"He was hurt"

I looked at her in surprise, her voice had taken on the multilayer tune that said she was no longer completely with us.

"How" I asked cautiously, she was silent for minutes before turning back to me, looking more tired than she had just few minutes ago, "I feel it, the winds of winter screams out in pain" she turned and started heading out "but he won't be hurt for long, months at most. Get rest Angrod my fellows are most likely healing your vintri as we speak".

So Melisandre really hurt him back then, I think to myself as I lay down on my fur bed, it was no water bed or even foam bed but it was far better than what I layed on ever since I woke up here I think to myself as I fall asleep.

AEMON TARGARYEN

He watched them squabble like children, they might as well be to him considering his advanced age. They argued around the table, the more hot blooded ones among them calling for a culling of the wildlings, ignoring the fact that they would be empowering the White Walkers and leaving themselves weakened.

While the second half that thought themselves wise called for abandoning the wildlings to their fate ignoring the fact that they would also be empowering the White Walkers and making the wildlings desperate enough to try something reckless.

" Enough " they all shut up and turned to look at the one that spoke, even as old as he was Joer Mormont still had a commanding presence.

"Qhorin, what do you think?" the lord commander asked.

"We would need their help, they know the far north better than we do, the also have the aid of the children of_"

"Still on with those tales are you Qhorin", Aemon didn't need his sight to know who spoke Alliser was a very bitter and cynical man, with a voice to match.

" Get out Alliser"

"Lord comma_"

"OUT" came the following roar as the lord commander stood with force as his chair fell behind him.

The Old bear was furious, and had been ever since he heard about the going ons beyond the wall, Mance, Angrod now White Walkers.

The door was shut a few seconds later and Jon snow set The Old Bear's chair back.

"continue Qhorin"

And no one spoke again as Qhorin shared his thoughts and opinions.

"Maester Aemon" the lord commander called, "you have sent letters for aid correct, what does the crown say?"

Samuel tarly helped him to his feet as he replied, "they doubt us, saying we mistake wildlings for the Others and they are occupied with dealing with the the death of the King and the warden of the North, civil war is very likely"

"I see" after a few minutes he replied "we shall go North and see if we can make something of an alliance with the wildlings"

The ensuing protest by the other officers of the night watch was promptly ignored by the Old bear and dragon.

He sat back and looked at the red eyed crow that watched the proceeding from a window above, and thought about how Bryden must be having the time of his life knowing the amount of headache his spawn gave them, he chuckled to himself as he closed his weary eyes.

***I thought Writers block was supposed to be a myth***


	15. Chapter 15

**ANGROD**

Walking up the volcano, I decided that I had gotten fed up with this dream, how did I conclude it was a dream?

Maybe because I have never been to a volcano in both my past life and this, maybe because this might be the thousandth time, I'm climbing this gods damned volcano, or maybe its just the fact that the last thing I remember was drifting off to sleep, and there sure as fuck is no volcano anywhere this far north for me to sleep walk to. Take a pick.

The dream had changed though, I concluded after observing the area once more. What started off as an ordinary volcano is now bubbling with strange veins of molten gold running inside the black rock. It made it seem alive and for a second, I thought I heard a heartbeat.

The dream seemed to change as I did, evidence of that was dark sister strapped to my back.

Another thing that set this dream apart was the fact that there was a red comet streaking through the sky, I could feel myself vibrating… no I wasn't the one vibrating, it was the mountain.

That revelation came the same moment I heard a thunderous roar that shook me down to my bones, forcing me to my knees. Something had been trapped down that volcano for a very long time, something monstrous enough to submerge itself in magma for hundreds of years and survive, no… adapt I realized as a vaguely serpentine head came out, eyes that seemed like boiling pool of magma stared at me.

With unhinged jaws that dripped magma, man sized teeths. It had the same veins of magma apparent even through black as night scarred scales.

I was frozen in shock and horror as its clawed wings came out and hooked itself round the volcanos mouth, I had an idea of what I faced as the last words I whispered before it destroyed the volcano mouth as well as it's surrounding with the force of its leap and passage with a flap of its sky bloating wings.

Cannibal…

Angrod… Angrod… Angrod… Angr…

My hands struck out for a throat as I woke, only the flash of a specific shade of red hair that forced it to stop inches away from grabbing the throat and crushing.

Eyes snapping wide, I see Ygritte look at me with shock, my heart almost broke seeing a bit of fear in her eyes as well. But she recovered first, moving past my arms trying to feel for my temperature.

"Well you're not down with a fever so… Nightmares?"

"I'm sorry about…"

"Let it be Angrod" she said with a smile, rising to her full height she headed out with a wave, "Grokmar is back, hunters spotted him with a group of… well come see for yourself"

Letting out a grunt, I force myself off my bed, suppressing dreams of fire, ash and cinders. I will have to see Bloodraven to unpack and interpret this mess.

I stand, stretching knotted muscles before putting on a per of thick boots and a shirt. My hair was growing long, almost pass my shoulders, I think to myself as I force it into a low bun. I might have to braid it or cut it soon, a decision to be made another day.

Stepping out of my room I head out, it was really bustling around. People moved with a sense of determination and purpose as they went to do whatever chores they had. "Where did it come from?"

"They know fighting the Cold Ones is no longer a death sentence" Three claws spoke beside me, I looked down at the child of the forest and decided to ignore the way he ninj'ed up to me.

"Whatever gave them that idea? We are still fucked." I ask with a raised eyebrow, Ignoring the two vintri that were suddenly behind me. Did everyone get ninja training while I was asleep.

"Killing a Cold One did… YOU did" Looking around I realized that a lot of people were looking at me with something close to adoration in their eyes.

"But killing it was a stop gap measure at best it was most likely not the only one"

"They do not know, or care about that, you gave them hope by killing a supposed immortal" came a surprising soft voice from the blond haired blue eyed vintri who I was starting to think was their leader.

"You gave us hope"

I turned away, not wanting to think about the amount of people that believed In me.

xxxxxx

We got to the gate, with a crowd behind us, seemed like news of Grokmar's arrival must have spread. Ygritte signaled there were people at the gate.

The gates where quickly pulled open and I was treated to the sight off a bandaged Grokmar, with a hand in a sling, the giants behind him barely a surprise, what surprised me was the sight of the biggest giant, whose palm griped Grokmar by the shoulder.

If you looked closer, remove 70% of the giant's body hair and remove about 7ft from the giant and you had a spitting image of Grokmar.

"Holy fuck" I whisper in surprise as I realize just who Grokmar brought home.

His heavy sigh as he sees my expression brings joy to my cold, black heart.

xxxxxx

Surrounded by friends and family, I could almost forget what hunted us outside our walls.

We were holding a war meeting/feast of sorts. The giants were too big to enter the buildings so we where stuck outside, underneath the night sky.

We sat around a great bonfire, while celebrations were going on around us with small bonfires and the stars our light. Lun Wun Voh Hun, Grokmar's apparent brother spoke to Snowylocks in the Old tongue, like most freefolk I could speak it a bit, but the rapid fire way Snowylocks spoke made me pick only a word in ten, while Lun Wun Voh Hun woke with such a heavy accent that made it hard to pick up some words unless you were really familiar with the language.

From the little I picked up It seemed that the Children of the Forest never lost contact with the giants like men did, (which makes sense in hindsight). And this was not the first time Lun Wun Voh Hun was meeting Snowylocks.

Grokmar was a bit further away discussing and relieving memories of battles fought and bragging about the greatest feats with Tormund.

Ygritte sat beside me, but for some reason her face was stuck in a frown as Morale rushed to her and they started whispering to each other. I sat quietly observing the goings before I suddenly felt pit in my stomach as my senses went haywire with the appearance of a red comet burning through the night sky.

Bringing with it an echo of the cannibal's roar. A Cold wind suddenly blew fiercer, almost extinguishing our bonfires. Just as I felt hot, my heart burning up and pumping into my veins what I realized to be magic like a reactor core.

Standing up I stagger closer to the fire, on instinct knowing that if the fire went off death would follow soon after and the fire explodes like firecrackers where lit. A hand grabs me by the shoulder and pulls me back just as all the other bonfires lit up, none as fiery as ours.

Ygritte turns me around and forces my burning shirt off. While I didn't catch the full brunt of the fire, enough got on my shirt and burnt hard and unnaturally fast.

Grokmar rushed over, looking at my torso with a frown as he made sure I wasn't too burnt. But my flesh was barely burnt, with the worst part just looking red instead of charred flesh.

Ygritte was about to speak before she was superseded by a melodious voice.

_Once again, It returns_

_coming full circle as it should_

_Long awaited has it been_

_Ancient and Everlasting_

_Bidding time and gathering _

_No parts missing or lost_

_Coming just as it left _

_Now complete whole undivided_

We all looked looked at Snowlylocks in shock, just as I realized her eyes bleed blood, she dropped like a string cut, three claws was close enough to catch her before she fell completely as even the giants were looking a the red comet with something close fear.

**Melisandre**

She stood naked as the day she was born, on one of the highest points of Dragonstone, standing in the middle of a circle where the blood from five points pooled together and starred at the sign of her god's awakening. She breathed in essence and magic from the dead dragon seed that lay bleeding out. Feeling her choker fill up.

"This changes things… considerably" she thinks to her self just as the blood stops flowing, going from a vivid shade of red to grey.

**Quarth**

In a dark hall, where light and hope seemed to go and die. Lay twelve huge throne chairs. Made of a black stone that caused nausea and brought forth madness for the unenlightened or those who _looked _at it. On the twelve black stones lay twelve pales emaciated… men. Robed in blue and seemingly dead to the world with skin a shade of white and purple lips.

As one their eyes snapped open, glowing an unnerving shade of blue that tracked the passage of a comet despite how deep they were in the earth. As one multiple purple colored lips curled into a horrible parody of a smile.

They communicate without words, on a way forward, but they are split. At last the decide, six look to Westros then shut their eyes knowing that what they hunt would soon cross the stretch of sea that separates the west and east.

Six look to the red waste, their prey prepares itself for a long journey, before shutting their eyes as well having decided to wait. What is a few months compared to the century's they've waited.

**For does that might be thinking "But cannibal was never this Magnificent!, well this cannibal has lived for long, as long as Balerion I think. And he just spent years in hibernation gorging itself on a nexus of fire magic (A Volcano). If Dragons had sins cannibal would be bearing the sin of gluttony.**

**Ygritte also awoke latent magic, but it was over looked with her trying to stop angrod from flash frying his face.**

**Angrod basically did accidental magic. Actually rolled for that outcome, if the row was low white walkers would have attacked the moment the fire went out.**

**If it wasn't obvious by now, this setting is going to have more magic use than cannon, think more Dresden files than harry potter.**


	16. Northborn 16

**ANGROD POV**

Magic was back.

That was a certain, it has been a week since the red comet. The show and books didn't seem to emphasize on that, but as I sat in my room and looked into the fire I could feel something call to me, like called to like.

I stretched my hands forth and watched as the flames caressed my hand like a long-lost lover, I held it there for a few minutes before it got too hot to bear and I had to remove it.

So, I had something more like heat and fire resistance than immunity, I thought to myself as I look at my red hands. This explains why dragon fire kills Valyrian's as easily as mundane men.

How far we had fallen, from the greatest and most feared people to refugees and pleasure slaves. If our ancestors could see us, they would be rolling in their graves, and I wouldn't blame them.

They were supposedly the greatest mages, not that it was hard to believe considering what just happened. I didn't cast a spell or anything, just natural resistance to fire.

They basically turned a whole civilization from humans to something else. Fire immunity was basically hardwired into my genes, it was a feat worthy of the greatest civilization.

A few seconds later and the hand was pale again. A heavy pounding on the door ended my introspection and experiments. I stood up and dusted my padded pants. Morald came, he had grown from a half starved, skinny freefolk to a young man in the hard few months since he joined up all lean muscles and eyes that saw the dead and watched as the dead looked back.

Down south they say bastards grow up fast, mehh bastards don't have anything on freefolks. "Ygritte sent you" I asked the young man.

"Yes, A fight broke out"

"brawls break out everyday" I reply with a raised brow.

"Not like this fight, someone died"

That was unusual, I thought with a frown on my face, not the death no, we were freefolks, not one to take an insult to the face and it wouldn't be the first time someone was killed in a brawl.

What made it unusual was the fact that I had heavily emphasized on the no killing. We already had white walkers trying to do that, we didn't have to help them speed things up, and I was respected enough that such a minor order should not have been gone against. So, the question now was why.

I mused on that train of thought as I dressed, forgoing the scavenged armor and putting on just a tunic and strapping dark sister to my waist.

"We are still in the north yes" he asked with a raised eyebrow as he watched me dress with only a tunic as protection against the heat stealing weather. I shrugged in reply as I walked out and left the room I occupied. On of the few changes I noticed, the cold didn't seem to affect me as it used to.

When I left anywhere warm, my body seemed to start warming itself up. My blood felt just a bit hot, snow flakes that dropped on me seemed to melt quickly. It didn't last forever though.

An hour or two at most before I got sleepy and drained having to go close to a fire something deep in my bones told me that this was good in the long term, I was tempted to ignore it just because of that. When did I start having such instinct's? Things to talk to Bloodraven about as soon as possible.

As I walked out, Morald beside me and two vintri behind me, _one day I would catch them sneaking up on me. And they will know my fur.. _shaking away thoughts of them I noticed a lot pf people watching as a fuming Tormund slammed his fist into a broad chested mans faces, hard enough that I could see teeth's fly.

After an internal _ooooh, _I walked forward. People that were in the way seemed to move away as their attention was drawn to me, the few that didn't notice me were edged away by their friends or family.

As I got into the circle, I saw what made him angry, a boy barely twelve had a wide gash on his throat in a morbid parody of a smile and a knife stuck in his chest, and a younger child crying over the body of the dead boy while Ygritte held the boy's should and seemed to whisper sweet nothings. The dead child held a piece of bread tight in his palm.

All emotions smoothly left my face as I observed the scene and looked at the fallen man with a carefully blank expression. It was not helped by the fact that my blood was literally boiling in my veins.

Children deaths were not rare on this side of the wall, but people were not likely to kill one. Killing a child was not something to brag about. What nearly broke my façade of calmness was when I heard the reason for his death.

"he stole bread", Ygritte spoke, her voice seemed light on the wind, almost toneless. You would have thought she was talking about the weather with how much inflection she seemed to put in. but her eyes, her eyes spoke more than her lips, with the way the light hit it, it was more purple than blue.

"He killed a child because of bread" this time she dragged out the words like she couldn't believe it.

And I could not blame her, even this far north where food was scarce. Most still had a shred of humanity or at least won't kill a boy barely grown because of stolen food.

Beaten him up? Yes, whipped him mercilessly, most likely. But not this.

So yes, I was angry, but someone was angrier. She launched forward as a hoarse scream left her throat. It stunned most people left them blinking as she slammed her fist into the man's face, just as he was getting back to his feet, hard enough to remove the remaining teeth's in his mouth, finishing what Tormund started.

Before he could fall back, she grabbed him and pulled him buy his beards before whipping her hand forth again hitting his throat this time and turning him into a chocking mess as he fell to his knees. What greeted his face was her rising knee smashing into his face hard enough to pulp his nose.

Watching her go to work on the man, it was evident she was not just wailing on him in anger, she was methodical, causing him enough pain but not enough to kill, I could have stopped her, I didn't. Afterall I taught her most of what she was doing.

When she was finished no one spoke for a few seconds. Ygritte was not the most mellow lady in the tribe, but this was the first time she was really roused to anger, I had a feeling something else was at work as I watched her pant, steam leaving her lips and knuckles scrapped bloody. The Snow carpet eagerly soaked the blood and dyed itself red and the falling snow that seemed to evaporate just as quickly as it landed on her exposed skin.

A child of the forest walked up to her first, the leaf wraps around her chest marked her female. She inspected Ygritte's hands then rubbed some paste on it before wrapping it up with a leaf and pulling her away from the scene by her wrist, Ygritte bent to pick up the wide eyed surprised younger child before following behind the child of the forest, Morald a few steps away .

I cracked my neck as I walked forward, I was still angry, but it was more of a smoldering ember than the bonfire it was a short while ago.

I looked at the man and though of a way to punish him, it was hard to make out any feature on his face, his nose was completely crushed and barely visible, forcing him to breathe from his mouth. He was missing his left eye were Ygritte had gouged it out from its socket.

I almost pitied him… almost, the dead child a few steps away squashed any ounce of pity that I would have otherwise had.

He was going to die, there was no two ways about it, it was just down to how. Tormund stood a few steps away still angry but he seemed to have calmed down after the brutal display.

I felt like I had to say something, but I didn't even have it in me. The two vintri behind me moved forward and grabbed the man, lifting him and placing him on his knees.

I walked and stood behind him, unsheathing dark sister. The blade held high, point down I looked around. Daring anybody to meet my eye and disagree with my punishment. None did.

So, I plunged the sword down, the magic enhanced blade smoothly parted through flesh, muscle and spine until the hilt stopped it from going any deeper. It was a quick death, something he was not worthy off, but quick none the less.

I flicked the blade sending blood to the ground, dark sister seemed contemptuous of the blood I had soiled her easily letting go of the blade, it was pristine once more I notice idly before sheathing it back on my hips. I left the scene feeling strangely tired, as I contemplated on if humanity was really worth it.

xxxxxxx

Grokmar found me on a cliff, as I sat and watched the sea and the wildlings below me fishing, while few children were playing closer to the shore, I should not have been able to see them but somehow, I could.

He dumped my white bear cloak on my back and stood silently behind me. After Ygritte, I trusted no else before him. Ever a steadfast presence for me. More of a father than whoever lay with my mother.

"Things were supposed to get better" I finally spoke.

"I'm already tired, can you believe that," I continued "and things have barely started… things are going to get far worse before they get better you know?

I didn't expect an answer so I was surprised when I received one. "and who is going to lead them through it if not you"

"That's why I made sure u were made chief instead of me, you've got a good head on your shoulders and the muscles to keep them there, whereas I've got only the muscles" he spoke with a shrug as I turned back to look at him surprise on my face.

"plus I know you've got plans, you've always had, always striving and preparing like you knew something was coming. So, get on your feet now and start putting those plans to action before I kick you down, I'm sure you're sturdy enough to survive the fall and swim back"

I barked out a laugh and shook my head before getting to my feat, "you are banned from giving anybody pep talk" he just shrugged wiping the light smile that was on his face and putting his right foot down from where it was aimed to punt me into the sea. Grokmar didn't make threats.

"So, what are you here for, cause I'm sure it wasn't to cheer me up. I asked after making sure the cloak really covered me up.

"Ygritte called a meeting" I walked beside him as we headed to the meeting.

xxxxxx

We entered the building where the meeting was supposed to take place, it was a huge sturdy stone building, obviously old, a remnant of the original Hardhome.

An iron wood table was placed in the middle, with chairs around it bringing to mind the small council.

"Ygritte," I hailed as I got closer before greeting the people seated around the table Tormund, Thormir, Three claws and Lun Wun.

Setting down on the biggest and most comfy human sized chair I looked at three claws in surprise, he had refused to leave Snowylocks side for the past week she's been unconscious, if he was here then things were more important than I thought.

"Brother, Grokmar you're finally here so I would go straight to the matter at hand. We are lacking food"

I frowned as Thormir asked the question on our minds, "how is that, we trade, we fish and we hunt is that not enough for us?" she shook her head before replying "how many do you think we are?"

"about 7,000" Tormund replied

"Wrong, in total counting the giants and the children of the forests, we are closer to 11,000"

That brought my mind to a stop, when we started up, we were barely more than 4k how come… the refugees I didn't realize I spoke out loud until everyone turned to me and Ygritte nodded.

"at least a hundred come in almost every day. That number has been steadily reducing but it's starting to tell as there are fewer games to hunt, wights seem to have started killing animals indiscriminately to hamper us and fishes would not be enough"

"what about the men who come from afar to trade?" Three claws asked, his voice hoarse from lack of use.

"not enough" Ygritte replied "and a lot of them try to cheat, selling food more expensive as they are aware we are in winter and in dire need of it."

"Killing them is not an option is it, as it?" Grokmar asked from his spot beside me.

"No… we kill one merchant and no one would sell to us again. Making the journey this far already is perilous, we don't have to give them more reason not to come."

The discussion kept on raging for a few seconds Lun Wun and Three Claws didn't add to the discussion having decided on just observing. I thought on our situation before finally speaking.

"We go to Essos."

"What" came the surprised response from the others. "It's easy, we go to essos, trade there, make connection's, even try to meet the Sealord of bravos. Plus, we still got that amber skinned Tryroshi fellow that I ruffled up a bit back then yes? He seemed like a blue blood, I'm sure his family would be able to pay a ransom for his release.

"You beat him half to death brother," Ygritte replied a smile finally breaking out on her face. "but yes, he's alive if you stretch the definition a bit"

I shrug as the whole table seemed to laugh at the jest. I shrugged in a Grokmar fashion "what can I say the fucker set his 7' hound on me, I was owed that"

Essos it is then.

**The tyroshi captive is from way back chapter 6.**

**Thanks for the favorites and follows, Northborn has broken the 500follows barrier. Never thought I would get this far to be honest, it's you guys reviews and interest in the story that keeps me writing.**

**Big ups to my new readers, Old readers and reviewers like carrick, osterreicher, the shadow of zama, rehen, spartan, gingi71 and the rest.**

**I thought I kinda made it obvious early enough, but just incase I'm saying it again, There would be MAGIC, GLORIOUS WONDERFUL MAGIC.**

**If someone can write up a better synopsis and send to me i will be really gratefull, i'm pretty shite at them**


	17. Chapter 17

The trill and knowledge of hunting your own prey was one of the most important aspect of the free folk culture.

I was an okay hunter, not all that good but not all that bad either. In my short nineteen years of living in this frozen hell, I've hunted my own share of dangerous game, some of my most brutal fights were with beast not with men and without a steel breastplate, most fights with a snow bear ended with the hunter's very much dead.

Any encounter with a shadowcat that doesn't start with you catching it off guard usually ended up with your spine crushed and you throat torn out. For such agile and stealthy creatures that hardly left tracks when they moved, they were heavier than they seemed when they pounced.

Great elks were deceptively passive and mellow creatures, right until they charge and slam into you with enough force to pulverize bones. Their antlers were not exactly for decorations either.

And if for some horrible reason you ran afoul of dierwolf pack… enough said.

What I'm trying to say is that there were no prey beyond the walls. Even the herbivores were known to kill hunters that were not careful. I have hunted my fair share of the creatures that roamed this far North, but compared to Ygritte, that was nothing.

This far north, few people were as good a hunter as Ygritte. she once hunted down a man that stole from our clan in the middle of a snowstorm. She came back a week later with a well-preserved head.

While she was not as well known for her strength in arms, I know for one that she had hunted everything short of a mammoth and that was because they were so rare this close to the shivering sea.

So, I was understandably surprised when she could not identify the tracks, we were following. Strange tracks that looked like the snow was stabbed with a spear. What started off as a leisurely hunt to unwind from the stress of stopping our great band of free folks from butting heads and breaking apart due to age old rivalries and grudges as old as the andal invasion.

(Although we were making headway in turning the bands of disjointed refugee free folks into a somewhat effective force and that was thanks to a combination of my reputation and Grokmar's reputation.) Turned to something else the moment I saw that glint in her eye.

A raised hand brought me out of my musings. We were surrounded my trees, snow and bushes and oh would you look at that more snow as usual. Ygritte holstered her bow and arrow, gave me a nod before scrambling up a tree.

I took out a hunting spear from the bandolier at my back, before testing the weight in my right hand while I waited for her to tell me what was in the clearing ahead. While my accuracy was nothing to brag about, nobody could doubt how effective my thrown projectiles that managed to hit were.

For the first time since we started our hunting Ygritte spoke and broke one of the most iron clad rule of hunting creatures that possessed better senses. "The hell is that"

That was not encouraging, few things startled Ygritte, not even the dead did nowadays.

Since she was not forthcoming with any more information, I decide to find out what was wrong.

Moving in a lol crouch, I froze in shock as I cleared the bushes and shrubs ahead and witnessed the battle ahead, six giant pale blue spiders against a juvenile mammoth that must have gotten separated from the herd.

Looking as tall as a direwolf and armored in darker shade of blue exoskeleton, what they lacked in strength they more than made up for in speed. Their fight with the mammoth was almost a work of art, moving with grace and cutting furrows into the mammoth.

It was death by a thousand cuts in every sense of the word. But still they hunted a mammoth and they were not easy prey. The mammoth staggered and an over eager spider went for its eyes, a tilt of its giant head and the spider was impaled on its tusk.

The other giant spiders learnt from that mistake and retreated and watched the mammoth as it entered its death throes. A few minutes later and it stopped kicking. The spiders moved towards it slowly, poking it a few times before try to drag it away.

Then my almost nonexistent stealth abilities failed me. Taking a step back to retreat, I stepped on a broken branch. It was so cliché that I stoped in shock to stare at the branch in bewilderment.

The giant ice spiders all froze as one, they didn't even look at my position but I knew they were aware of my presence. A gust of snow and soul chilling wind blew and blocked my vision for a second. That was all it took for them to disappear.

With the sudden drop in temperature, I moved into a low stance dropping the hunting spear as I used my left hand to grip the sheathe to steady it while my right lay on the hilt of dark sister at my waist ready to unsheathe it.

I could feel myself burn up, as whatever passive enchantment that lay in my blood fought against the effects of the cold. Keen eyes searched around futilely for the slightest sign of the giant spiders.

Two arrows struck out from above me to slam into the snow a few meters from me… a dying screech made me look close to discover it was one of the giant spiders that seemed to camouflage perfectly in the snowy terrain.

The remaining hidden spiders left their stealthy approach and charged me so fast that their legs didn't seem to sink into the snow. I let out a breath of air and waited for the first spider to reach me.

The first one reached me in seconds, a few meters away I pivoted to the side as dark sister blurred out of its sheathe.

It kept up its momentum for a few steps before realizing it left half its head behind before dropping.

The second came at me from the side, all speed and grace as it danced away from my swings, the fight was hard as my experience at fighting eight legged creatures were none existent, it was made harder as the third and forth came at me from behind and the left side as well forgetting about Ygritte.

She punished them for that, loosing three arrows into the one behind and slamming it into the ground with the force of the blow. The third spider changed direction and tried to charge the tree Ygritte was on.

I kicked the spider that was focused on me away before sheathing my sword and kicking my hunting spear up into my waiting hands, a split second later the spider was impaled and stuck halfway up the tree. The last spider jumped at my exposed back but I had not forgotten about it.

Spinning with the same movement, I raised my left arm and let the giant spider bite into the vambrace just as its whole weight slammed into me and tried to trip me. But the giant spider was far lighter than me even with its momentum.

Continuing my spin and ignoring the furrows it was digging into my breastplate with its barbed legs. I slammed it into another tree hard enough stun it and shatter its exoskeleton, before ripping out a dagger from the small of my back and drilling its sharp edge into soft underbelly, repeatedly.

Soft thuds behind me let me know of Ygritte's arrival "You have the worst luck brother" she japed as she walked up to me.

I turned to her and smiled even though I could see the worry in her eyes as she looked at where the spider's fangs managed to pierce through the vambrace with one of its fangs still lodged in.

"it's alright Ygritte, I've been bitten by worse". my smile turns to frown as I try to walk up to her and I stagger to a knee. Heart beating hard and lungs heaving as I try to draw in breath.

"It's poisoned" Ygritte gasped out with a as she rushed to me. I could tell my body was already fighting the poison, as I could feel my blood boil below my skin.

I tried to get to my feet again, but it seemed like whatever my body was doing to counter the poison, it was not doing it fast enough as my vision began to blur. I could feel Ygritte grab hold of me before plunging something sharp into my forearm and making an incision from my elbow to my wrist.

As I bleed out the poisoned blood, I could feel my vision clear up, using my other hand to wipe sweat soaked brows. I looked at the arm Ygritte was forcing blood out off in something close to shock as I noticed the colour was black blue.

A few mins later I felt like I had lost something, a sudden ache in my chest like I had a second heart that was just drained as the blood transited from a blue black to a vibrant shade of red that sizzled like acid as it dropped and melted the snow.

The sharp and familiar pain of a bone needle drew my attention back to my arm as I watched Ygritte stitch the incision on my arm close with practiced grace before wrapping the forearm in bandages.

"how do you feel" she asked as she looked up at me, "better than I was a few minutes ago".

"poisons don't drain out that fast and neither do poisoned people recover in minutes brother" she said as she looked me in the eyes softly.

Before I could give an excuse, she continues "I worry for you Angrod". "you keep secrets, bear strange knowledge and speak with even stranger people. Now you recover faster and bleed red that feels like liquid fire"

Words failed me as I look at her and try to figure out how much to tell her.

Her features hardened once more as she made an internal decision. "I would have words with this Bloodraven when we get back" Oh boy.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Our return to Hardhome was quick, the archers at the watchtowers looked us over before signally for the gates to be open, we were met first by Morald, my sister's pet project had a frown on his face as he saw my injuries.

"you guys are the first group that left the walls to come back at all" I frowned as I heard him, it didn't take a genius to figure out what other scouting teams and hunters might have fallen afoul off.

"Giant ice spiders the size of a dierwolf, like the tales spoke of" Ygritte replied. The sigh the boy let out made him sound older than he was. "It only gets worse doesn't it"

"It matters not, gather up the elite hunters, we will scour our surroundings, bring back who we can, burn who we can't and hunt down any of them close to Hardhome. I must leave you now brother, I have to restock on my arrows".

"Be careful Ygritte, you won't have a meat shield as good as I'm outside the gates of Hardhome" I japed to lighten the mood.

"I won't make the same mistakes I made last time brother, send some of the children of the forest that are herbalists and healers my way would you" waving me off she headed for the armory with Morald trailing behind her.

I went to the weirwood grove in Hardhome to clear my head and gather my thoughts, the particular weirwood tree I favored was an ancient one, having survived the burning of Hardhome ages past and fed well on the split bloods of its former inhabitants and sacrifices freely given, it had grown huge and tall with gnarled roots as thick as a child.

Hundred of crows perched on the tree eyeing anybody that walked up, with three weirwood faces on the tree that cried red. It gave the grove a foreboding presence.

I sat beneath the tree and rested while the vitna stood a few paces away. Yorwick had a frown and an annoyed look in his blue eyes ever since they saw me, it seemed like my injury pained him more than it did me.

I rested my back against the tree and tried my best to relax. I had just drifted off to sleep I heard a voice that I had not heard for the past few weeks.

"Angrod" My eyes snapped open as my hand moved automatically to dark sister.

"Snowylocks" I replied with a smile as I saw the white-haired child of the forest. Her nut dark skin seemed pale and she had heavy bags under her usually bright yellow eyes.

"Three claws" I replied with a nod to the frowning child of the forest that trailed behind Snowylocks.

"we must speak Angrod" I nodded and waited for her to continue as she sat on a root, while three claws stood behind her.

"I will tell you something of our history. We were old when this world was young, when the stars fell and split this world into different lands we watched and shaped our homes out of trees.

When the dragon blooded roamed this world like it was theirs to rule, conquering and subjugating their fellows, they dared not come this far north knowing that we could steal their weaker willed beasts from under them"

When magic was a roaring fire could be harnessed by those with sufficient will and the right blood. We sat and watched as men played with what they knew not.

Once a generation, our kind are blessed with one or two that could swim through the tides of fate and even change it if they were powerful enough. Humans call them green seers

But they are not fated to live as long as the rest of us, some see it a curse other a blessing, so when their times come, we entombed them in the most ancient wierwood groves, and they join their fellows, in communion deep within the earth watching over us and preserving our most ancient knowledge."

My eyes widened in surprise as I read between the lines and realized what she wasn't saying, The Old Gods were basically an amalgamation of all the greenseers that ever lived.

Bright red leaves began to fall and I noticed shadows at the edges of my vision, less light seemed to enter the grove as whispers in a tongue older than man seemed to come with the wind. I slowly got to my feet.

She continued engrossed in her own story "When the sundering came and the cycle started coming to an end, we feared not, knowing our knowledge was persevered and we were ready to wait for the next cycle.

Then man ran to this continent and we welcomed them, they feasted and dined with us but forgot our kindness after only a few generations. Like they are known to do.

They burnt down our groves the moment our powers began to wane. so,\ we fought, used whatever pitiful workings of magic we still could, but yet we were loosing. We could not afford to lose as much as you could. so we made mistakes"

she says with a drawn sigh, and we paid dearly for it. "men burnt down thousand of trees killing our most ancient ones and costing us whatever secrets they kept, songs to shape the trees, sunder the earth, bindings and wards to stop creatures so old even the giants forget them.

Rituals and Potions that could change a man from a beast, back to man and Potions could make the flesh as hard as bark and regrow limbs lost…" she looked lost in her memories, even three claws had a forlorn look on his face.

"we were killing the old gods…" I said in a whisper drawing the attention of Snowylocks and whatever was with us. My words seemed to agitate it as the crows above started flying above us clouding the skies with dark feathers.

Yorwick and the three other vitna stood back to back as moving shadows prowled around them, things so full of hatred and spite it could be felt, yet the vitna were wise to not draw blade, only standing back to back and staring at the coming darkness with hard eyes, these were not green warriors, they have fought wights and lived to tell the tales.

"Yes…. Now the ones that survived are awake, but they are a shade of their former selves driven by hatred and spite, but bloodraven has blunted their anger and sharpened it into something useful. But aid of magics that were freely given ages past won't be given again. A blood tithe must be paid, mundane blood or dragon's blood" she said with a pointed look "it matters not"

"But there is power in the blood, the boons you shall get would depend on the blood tithe given."

With a blink I noticed our surroundings were back to normal, the moving shadows were still once more, unbidden whispers silent and the murders of crows that blocked the skies missing save for a three eyed crow that stood and observed us from the peak of the tree.

The vitna still looked around cautiously, there is no such thing as being overly cautious this far north.

"I must rest now Angrod, the old gods have chosen me as their representative thou I do not posses the capabilities of the greenseers, it weakens me to communicate with them."

"I see" I reply "I shall think about, what has been spoken today, rest well Snowylocks you need it". With a nod she walked away, three claws surprisingly stayed behind.

"Things are changing Angrod, somethings better left asleep are stirring, be careful" with a final nod he follows Snowylocks.

When it rains it pours.

**THE THING BOUT THE OLD GODS IS BASICALLY MY HEAD CANON AND AND I FEEL LIKE THE REASON DRAGON LORDS NEVER CONQURED WESTROS WAS BECAUSE THEY WHERE WARY OF THE COTF.**

**READ, FAVORITE, ENJOY AND REVIEW**


	18. Chapter 18

**ANGROD POV **

I woke to jostling and general uncomfortable movements, turning around in hopes of ignoring what was happening, I dropped.

Landing face-first into the deck was not fun. Shaking off sleep, I stagger to my feet and take a hold of my hammock to balance myself, even after a week at sea I was still not used to waking up without solid ground beneath me.

Another nightmare of returning to Hardhome to see a desolated wreck. The only reason I finally decided to take this journey was because of the runes that the children of the forests were carving around Hardhome.

While it won't stop the Others from passing through, weaker wights were fair game until the magic in them was burnt out. Grokmar's presence there was a reassuring factor well.

Shaking off thoughts of swimming back to the far North, I look around and spot Ygritte seated cross-legged and balanced perfectly, to my great envy. Snapping my fingers in front of her face doesn't seem to wake her so she's most likely in a trance, I deduce as I also notice dried wierwood paste on her lips.

She had taken to going into trances like this and communicating with Bloodraven far more than I liked, and apparently, she had more first men blood in her than Valyrian, I'm guessing the reason why it was never focused on was because she never had anybody to teach her.

She had taken to dream walking and had made more progress in warging into the seagulls and passing seals far better than I did in the months I spent with Bloodraven, something about having a more malleable mind and being clear and level headed.

Then again, I was more focused on experimenting with other alternatives than solely warging. Done with my morning absolutions, I went to see my ship.

The_ Jormungandar_ was a fine ship. A refitted and reinforced galley that we… 'obtained' a few months ago from an overconfident and now dead slaver and his Ghiscari employer who was still cooling his hills down in the cargo bay.

My plans for going to Essos were threefold. First was Trade, The Far North had few things that were really in demand in Essos, but the few things that were valued there were rare to get and the perilous journey this far north was not worth it to most people that were not slavers and the few good merchants.

There few real things of value to trade like wierwood, Seals, walruses, and sea lions that are more common. Nobody was stupid enough to cut down any wierwood tree though, and more so ever since the children of the forests came to join us. But strong enough branches that fell off were free game.

My second plan was to ransom off the Ghiscari we captured a few months back. His knowledge of common and Old tongue where nonexistent apparently, he spoke only High Valyrian.

The only reason he was not dead was because the former pirate/slaver turned free folk that joined up with us months back spoke low Valyrian and was able to interpret some of the noble's rambling.

Our captive was of the blood of Old Ghis. The elites of elites, and second son to one of the ruling wise masters of New Ghis. So we sent a message ahead a month ago to meet at Pentos, I definitely didn't plan on going halfway around the world to New Ghis, it was too close to Qarth for my liking, and I was not going to surrender the home advantage to them.

My third plan was Mercenary work.

Free folks breathe battle. we were hard folks, made so by a harsh land. Most were wielding blades as soon as they were past ten years, the only thing we lacked was discipline and formation, but we would make do. The ship was filled with five hundred Veteran free folk, wielding axe, spear, and blade. The only people we could spare from guarding Hardhome.

"Warchief"

I'm shaking out of my muse halfway up the deck by a frowning Yorwick, the blue-eyed vitna.

"Yorwick" I reply with a raised brow.

"You need to see this chief"

Frowning at the urgency in his voice, I rush up to the deck and behold a wide fog that encompassed all I could the see and was also trying to climb up the ship.

"Shiiit, what am I seeing Yorwick?" I asked as I griped Dark sister's hilt, the other free folks above deck were anxious as well but not panicking, few things topped fighting the reanimated corpse of loved ones or friends.

"We don't know chief, it started suddenly. We didn't notice until we were almost covered"

I frowned as kept on observing the fog, I didn't need to be dragon blooded to know this was Magic, not the good kind either. The fog looked almost sentient in the way it moved, like a predator that knew its prey was not going anywhere.

"Keep Alert" I announced, Yorwick stood behind me Dane axe in hand already.

Dipping my fingers into the satchel on my waist and quickly smear the wierwood paste around my eyes.

I opened my eyes again and the rush of information threatened to stun me, but my long practice with it paid off as I was able to blink away the lesser information like the strands of hair on the head of free folk ahead of me. Focusing my sight on the fog, I beheld death and it looked right back at me.

With the supernatural heightened senses from the paste, I could see the fog for what it really was, souls, gaunt and sickly-looking things, screaming wordlessly and damned to whatever kept them chained to this pitiful existence.

Looking further and felt my vision sharpen again as my eyes changed shape and I was able to make out a ship with black sails and a dark red hull that was heavily surrounded by the damned fog, I felt a chill run down my spine. Squinting more I was able to make out a flag above, a red-eye with a black pupil beneath a black iron crown supported by two crows

"_The silence_" I whisper to myself, well it seemed that we might just be getting into a fight after all.

Unsheathing dark sister, I spot a single figure on deck, with the fog and the distractions that were the chained souls, I could barely make out the figure, but I already knew who it was, although his wide grin and wave was a surprise.

Looking at him again, the only features I was sure of, was the demented grin plastered on his face and a left eye that glowed with malice and power.

With a raised eyebrow, I Give off a wave of my own with dark sister in hand, seconds later the fog seemed to thicken around _The silence, _while also lightening up and clearing around us.

"What did you do boss," Yorwick asked

"Nothing, pass the news to Thormir, full speed ahead to Pentos" I sheathe my sword back and consider this meeting. Euron Greyjoy always seemed half-mad and very fickle, I don't like my odds against him unprepared if he already had some magic in his grasp.

Grabbing a hold of Yorwicks arm as he was about to move off I add "Tell Tormund, the Vitna and ten trustworthy free folks to come and meet me below deck, it's about time you lot tried using the wierwood paste, lets see if you lot have the spark of talent to do something with it" he takes off with a nod.

I turn around with a grin almost wide enough to rival Euron's own and looked at the retreating Fog, it seemed I was in a magical armed race. That means Plan Witcher Shock troops is a go.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

We got to Pentos late in the evening. I know I'm supposed to say Pentos is a beautiful city, complement its stunning port and its bright people yadayada. But I just couldn't find it in me to do so, I grew up in Urban areas my whole life. I had seen marvels of engineering from skyscrapers to sprawling metropolises like New York. Compared to Pentos… well, I guess it has that rustic medieval vibe going for it and being able to act calm and unruffled while the other free folks gaped was satisfying.

I noticed something from the moment I stepped off the ship and looked down the shaking dockmaster that had to strain his neck to look me in the eye.

Northmen and maybe most Westrosi as a, in general, were big. Where I thought the average height in ASOIAF verse was 6'0, looking around I realized how wrong I was. Everywhere I looked most people just looked… small

The dockmaster started rambling in what I'm guessing is low Valyrian. With every Free folk that stepped off the ship, the Dockmaster took a step back. At this point, we were drawing attention as some traders and other people stopped to observe the sight of the fur-clad barbarians. Four wandering guards saw what was happening and quickly rushed to back up the dockmaster.

"You are scaring them Angrod" Ygritte announced her presence in common as she stepped down from the ship to stand at my side while Tormund, Yorwick, and the other free folks that were disembarking with us stood behind me.

"But they look so… small" The lead guard was barely 6'0.

Shoving me out of the way with an amused huff, she stepped forward to address the dockmaster who was already halfway behind the lead guard.

"We are… Westrosi traders and mercenaries, if you will, and we speak only common"

"Oh yes common" the dockmaster finally seemed to be regaining his nerve and confidence now that he realized we were not hostile and we spoke a language that he could understand, smoothly transitioning into common he started his whole spiel from the beginning again.

"Welcome to Pentos, most beautiful of the free cities and…"

At that point I just tuned out the dockmaster and stared at the guards, with the pristine amour and spears, it didn't take a genius to figure out that most of the city guards were as green as a fifteen-year-old free folk, with the scrawny musculature to go with it.

It was not all that surprising either as I was already aware that Braavos might as well have their balls in a vice, with the way their military forces were curtailed. it was almost pitiful.

Overlooking them with the assurance that if it ever came down to a fight, other than the lead guard that looked like he had some experience under his belt the remaining three were not even going to slow me down.

People were starting to lose interest and had either stopped staring or gone back to what they were doing, but I wondered if Daenerys was still here.

I'd hope not. While it would be interesting to meet her this early in the timeline when she hasn't had the chance yet to harden her self for what was to come, I didn't care all that much about her.

I wouldn't have minded giving Viserys a good whooping for how he treated her, although I had always pitied him in a way. But well they've done all of that already and she should be on her way to Qarth and if magic was really back, then the warlocks were already leading in the magical arms race, I didn't want anything to do with them.

"Angrod"

I blinked in surprise, before looking at Ygritte and the retreating harbor master that calling for someone "what?"

"you might as well have been sleeping on your feet for all the good you did here"

"Bah, least we are done with all the talk. Let's go find a tavern or something, the comfort of Hardhome has spoilt me, I would like to sleep on a real bed"

Letting out a sigh she replies "The dockmaster went to fetch a guild that would lead us to an acceptable tavern"

"That should be the boy then" Tormund Interjected

A short brown-haired boy stopped a few meters shy of us panting and trying to recover his breath "Follow me please"

Taking in the sights of Pentos just reinforced my belief that first men, or maybe just people of the north were taller. We drew attention just walking pass, from our height to our dresses of fur. Just for a second, I regretted not coming with my wolf cloak and headdress, just to mess with them.

Pentos was… bright. Everyone wore clothes so colorful I felt my eyes bleed just looking at them. With a strange architecture that was somewhere between middle eastern and medieval France.

Our journey to the _Whistling fish _tavern was supposed to be a short and boring one, it was a popular tavern close to the dock and supposedly housed mostly mercenaries and sailors, if our guild was to be believed. He seemed strangely jovial for someone that wasn't even up Ygritte's shoulder.

A jab to my side made me look at Ygritte again. "You were thinking something stupid again"

I tried to put up an innocent look, but she didn't seem convinced so I just smiled and shrugged.

Our byplay was interrupted by a white-haired man in red robes in front of us. If his red robes didn't inform me of his allegiance, the fiery heart imprinted on the front of the robes did.

Our guide had gone still and stumbled back the moment the red priest came to us. I remember they were well known in Pentos, but not well-liked. Putting my hand on the boy's shoulder, I gently shove him to the side and closer to Tormund before stepping forward.

The moment I stepped forward I realized that the red priest was blind, his eyes were milky white, who would have known that looking straight into the fire all day had its downsides, definitely not them.

He stretched his hand to grab my cloak, but I caught the arm before he could. Ignoring my motion, he started speaking.

"beware cold men with blue lips, son of man, touched by fire. Your rage shows the elder blood breeds true. I have seen it in the flames, that anger gone unchecked. Keep it shackled and chained, less you scar the world like your elders before you"

With his piece said, he jerked his hand back and I let go, before murmuring to himself and walking away and disappearing into the crowd just as quickly as he came.

"I don't like prophesies," I said deadpan before calling for the boy to lead us to the tavern once more. His jovial attitude had been drained by the encounter with the red priest and he was more subdued for the rest of the journey.

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Reaching the tavern and getting our rooms was a blur, the day had gotten darker faster than expected, by the time we had settled down our arms and luggage, we were called down for dinner.

The tavern was a huge three-story building, with a chubby woman as the bartender and matron. The boy was also right as the tavern was full of men with bearing armor and hard eyes.

We took a seat on a wide table that could seat the whole ten of us, while the remaining free folks that came down from the ship, spread out to other taverns in groups of ten or more.

Halfway into our meal, a new group of mercenaries stepped in. you could tell they were just coming back from a battle as they had that jovial and boisterous attitude that only those that stared death in the face and said '_not today' _possessed.

I ignored them after a quick look at them, at least that was before the leader walked up to us after a short conversation with the now frowning bartender.

"you soddy lots are at our table, leave" I raised an eyebrow and dropped the mug I was drinking from to look the man in the eye and make sure he was serious. He was a tall man, maybe 6'3 or something with the grith and heavy plate to go with it.

I looked at Ygritte and Tormund who sat at both sides of me as if to confirm if I was hallucinating. The surprised look on Ygritte's face and the amused look on Tormund's let me know the answer to my unasked question.

I stared at the man again, could this be the legendary bar fight. I had never been in a bar fight in my past life, and in this life either, there were no bars or brothels in the north.

At this point, we had started drawing attention, and the rest of the mercenaries that came in with him moved to stand behind him. I decided to ignore him, maybe he would leave if he was ignored, I was too new in the city to go stirring up a fight.

Moving to grab my mug again, a mousy looking mercenary used his hand and cleared the table, shoving off and scattering our foods and drinks on the floor.

I moved with a snarl on my lips. Gripping the heavy table with my two I hands, I stood and flipped it with force. Slamming it into the mercenary and burying him under the heavy table.

The mercenaries were shocked by the sudden display of violence, Tormund was not. With a roar on his lip about his ale, he dived the leading mercenary shoulder first, sending them both to the floor.

"A barfight it is," I said with a booming laugh as we charged each other.

As soon as the first merc reached me, my hand lashed out and grabbed him by his face. Lifted him and up slammed him back down, I ignored his twitching body as I stood to my feet.

Another merc charged the moment I stood. Slamming into me shoulder first and arms wrapped around me. He was only able to push me back a few meters away from the royal rumble before his momentum was spent.

With a wide grin on my face, I lifted my hands and slammed a closed double-handed hammer fist on his back with bone-crushing force.

His yelp of pain was cut short as I gripped him by the side, lifted and threw him to the bar where the bartender was looking at us with an annoyed look on her face.

Laughing it off, I charged back into the brawl and the rest of the fight was a blur, until out of instinct more than anything, I spun and grabbed a hand that held a dagger that was inches away from my spine.

It was the mousy looking merc. I felt a heat in my chest as I stared down the merc I don't know what my face must have looked like, but I doubt it was pretty, as the merc turned pale. I twisted the wrist with a sharp crack, His scream was cut short and went a few shades higher as I broke that arm in five different places.

I let his unconscious body drop as he passed out from the pain. But my blood was still pumping hard and fast_ why does he get to be unconscious_ _after what he almost did. _I moved to step on the hand again to wake him, but someone grabbed my elbow.

A whispered "Angrod" stopped me from lashing out. The fight had ground to a halt after the piercing scream, and the spectating mercenaries and sailors stared at the scene.

After a few seconds, a dark-haired, heavily scarred mercenary spoke "you don't pull out a knife, sword or weapon in a bar fight"

Lifting his mug to me with a nod, he went back to his food just as the rest did.

I didn't realize I was panting till Ygritte led me upstairs, "are you alright" she asked a concerned look on her face.

I replied her with a nod. we will send out a message to the Ghiscari noble tomorrow, for today, I just need to sleep.

With a final nod, I continued my journey to my room alone.

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Our venue and date for our 'meeting' with the Ghiscari noble was decided, so we sold off all our wares as plans were already in motion. Tormund was in search of mercenary contracts. while I, Yorwick, Morald, and Ygritte went to meet with the Ghiscari.

We were going to be making the transaction outside Pentos, in the boundary where Qohor, Norvos, and Vaes Khadohk met. There was a small-town trading town there for caravans.

We took only fifteen free folks and left the prisoner on the ship. I was forced to learn horse riding out of necessity during the week it took us to get there. Ygritte mostly had it down in a day. But that was her cheating with the aid of warging.

The _glittering bronze_ inn was a two-story building that surprisingly upscale for a town that was barely on the map_. _Its residents were dressed in silks, soft furs, and painted faces that made it hard to pick out the noble. He saw us first and waved us upstairs and over to a side room. He was a slim man, small of stature, with reddish-brown hair that fell to his shoulders and a nervous look on his face, three guards stood behind him.

For some reason their presence brought chills down my spine, their eyes looked pale and dead, one stared at dark sister, the other stared me in the eye and the last stared at Ygritte. I considered using the paste to activate what I was calling my witch sight, but that would draw attention as few things would. I should have put it on before I stepped. _Hindsight is a bitch_.

The Ghiscari started the discussion with a no-nonsense tone, "sit, I would rather not spend more time with your _ilk_ than I already have"

The way he emphasized the word, caught me off guard, I felt like things were happening that I was not aware of. Had he come in contact with a free folk?

There was a small table in the middle and two seats. There was also a strange smell in the air, incense most likely. So, the both of us sat while the others stood

"Now where is my son?"

"don't worry your pretty head, he's hale and healthy on my ship"

"and how much are you requesting for his release"

I reply with an easy shrug "5 thousand gold coins"

The noble frowns heavily, and opens his mouth to bargain-

"Don't bother" I stop him before he can even start. "Your son and his crew came to my land to rape, pillage, and steal. You should be lucky I'm giving him back alive"

The Ghiscari was about to speak when there was a sudden thud behind me, the first guard gave off a wicked smile before his form shimmered for a second. "glamour!" I cried out and spun too late.

Morald was on the floor, with two daggers lodged in his back, while Yorwick fended off three blue-lipped assassins, Ygritte was on her knees.

The first glamoured guard punished me for looking away by diving over the table and trying to shove a knife in my back. But I was wearing my breastplate under my cloak so it only pierced the cloak and glanced off.

I snapped back with my left hand and sent the first man off the table before kicking it to the Ghiscari noble that looked to be in shock. The second warlock assassins jumped over the table, only to impale himself on darksister. The glamor flickered off, and for the first time, I saw his features clearly. Blue eyes with dark bangs below. Purple lips and chalky white skin. The horror in my eyes made the dying warlock laugh as I pushed him off and turned to face the third one, just as the last whispered words of power left his lips and his shadow moved.

"No!"

Then the world was plunged into darkness. I quickly dipped my finger into my pouch and smeared the paste on my eyes. It was not enough to see everywhere, but I could see around me, and the first sight my enhanced vision saw was Ygritte bleeding and slumped over a warlock's shoulder.

I saw red. Letting out a roar, that mad no noise with the shadow that obscured us, I charged the warlock, but the three other assassins that engaged Yorwick, sans one that was now missing his head blocked me from stopping the two fleeing warlocks. They slowed me down for a few seconds, but those seconds were all it took for the warlock to disappear through the window.

I followed them through the window and jumped out. Folding my legs and braced for impact, landed with a thud and a roll, i got back to my feet, but I could only see a single Warlock on a horse running away. With teeth bared, blood pumping, and fire in my chest so hot, I felt like I was immolating. I jumped on my horse and pursed. If I was just a minute slower, I would have seen Ygritte stumbling out of an alley with a dead warlock in her hands.

**I think this is my longest chapter ever. Life has hit me hard recently so I've been very busy. This should be the second to the last chapter before the end of this arc. **

**Thank you for the kind reviews. I will try to brush up my writing before I start the second arc.**

**I'm making a retcon (it's not really a big issue) as of this chapter, Dany has not gotten to the red wastes.**

**For those that might be confused, the incenses was supposed to dull their movements and incapacitate them, but Angrod's blood burnt through it and Yorwick was big, so it took longer to work on him, compared to Morald or Ygritte that had a smaller stature.**

**PM Me if you have any question, I will try to answer as soon as possible. I've been awake for close to 24hours, I'm going to bed.**


	19. Chapter 19

They sat deep within the earth. The darkness a well-beloved shroud that hid their ugliness from themselves. The only light was a pale blue flame that burnt without oxygen in the middle of the cavern.

Twelve black stone carved thrones stood, yet only eleven shriven and emancipated forms were present. A pale lip cracked open for the first time in centuries.

"one is missing" his voice was as raspy as he looked. The blue robbed man that spoke was more gaudily dressed than the rest, his eyes completely milky and stature even frailer than the remaining ten, but anybody with a shred of magic in their blood would be shiver at his sheer presence.

"It matters not. How goes the… discussions with the savage dragon blooded" pale film covered eyes moved to the furthermost man. The man tried to mind speak but was cut off by the elder warlock. "speak with your tongue, lest I deprive you of it permanently"

The aforementioned warlock took a few seconds to get his voice and unused vocal cords into working order. "he would not break, nor spill his secrets. I have fed him enough shade of the evening to kill any mortal twice over from its toxicity alone and yet his mind stands strong, as he instinctively retreats into it. A towering wall of a strange type of stone I know not of and a red-eyed raven that watches from above"

The frail elder warlock tilted his head, "solid untrained mental defense and an entity with a foothold within his mind already" the frail warlock rested his chin on his palm while his second hand tapped his chair in a pattern that forced the warlocks to cringe and shiver.

"so, be it then" he continued "and the acquisition of the second dragon blooded?"

Another warlock moved to speak "she's in the city at the moment"

The frail warlock finally closed in eyes and rested his head with a final word "let it be done"

**Daenerys Targaryen**

Her entrance into Quarth was more dramatic than she expected. The thirteen were high strung and more skittish than she would have thought, and the thrill and rage of threatening the thirteen was something she was getting used to.

Looking to her side she observed her savior. A member of the thirteen and a summer lander with an exotic skin, a darker shade than she had ever seen. Her eyes drifted to the gates and widened at the sight of dried blood on the gates and the ground. Jorah moved to stand beside her grip tight on his sword as his eyes also noticed the bloodstains.

"They thirteen are… highly strung and rightfully so" The summer lander spoke in a low baritone. As they got into the city completely, she noticed the lack of people on the streets and even more bloodstains on the ground. The few people she met were skittish and turned away the moment they caught sight of her eyes.

"What happened here?" she forced her voice to remain calm as her eyes tracked the almost artistic flair of red, spread on the stones.

"There was an incident a few days ago," his voice slipped even lower "red-haired angry berserker broke into the city and carved a bloody path straight for the house of the undying. Blades did not stop him, neither did shields. According to witness either brave or stupid enough to watch him, his eyes glowed purple, were silted and he seemingly healed from the blood of the soldiers that tried to stop him. Some say he's a scion of Valyria, others whisper he's the doom given flesh."

He ended his explanation with a pointed look at her eyes and the cage that held her children.

"What happened to him?" she asked as her curiosity was pricked, what would vex a man to try fighting a city alone?

"he was supposedly captured at the gates of the house of the undying, three warlocks came to subdue him and yet only two left with his body. The man with the painted lips, corpses like skin and a scar that almost bisects his ugly face was one of them"

She turned her head slightly and noticed the warlock staring at her with a hunger she would have mistaken as lust if she had not seen it on Drogon's face whenever he looked at sheep.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Hundreds of miles away, something better left asleep begins to steer for the second time in months. The only signs of its annoyance are the brighter glow of its slit pupils and its low growl that sailors meters away would mistake for a coming storm.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

She was rejected. It was not completely surprising if everything Xaro Xhoan told her was true. When they realized how weak she truly was, the formerly fearful thirteen turned to greedy wolves. She almost resented the red-haired man that contributed to all of this, but then the thought always came back to her head, what would make a man so angry that he would face a city alone?

She was pulled out of her thoughts and forced to get up from her stupidly-comfortable bed by a knock on the door.

Jorah waited for a few seconds before coming in. the night had been good on the banished knight and for the first time, he looked well-groomed. The look on his face brought chills down and spine and his words drove away thoughts of the berserker and her loyal knight.

"Your dragons are missing!"

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her journey to the house of undying went by in a blur, her heart pounded with anger while her blood ran hot in her veins. It was a sensation she had been getting used to ever since the birth of her children. Her single-minded determination to get them back blurred her vision until she found herself inside the castle.

With neither Jorah at her side nor her bloodrider. The thought of going further brought chills down her spine, but the heat that flowed through her washed the feeling off. She observed the room she found herself in. the inner walls were made of the same black stone she was vaguely aware the tower was also made off, her only source of light was a torch that hung off the wall.

The screech of her dragons were the last things she hears before a heavy smog appears from behind her smothering the torch and knocking her unconscious.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The air was hard to breathe, is the first thing her sluggish mind reveals to her as she wakes. She forces herself to her feet, a feeble torch her only source of light. She chokes in a cry as she looks at the 'room', she found herself in.

Corpses hang mid-air bound by solid chains that spread their hands apart. Desiccated corpses with surprising intact forms, expressions of pain, and fear branded on their faces.

They lined the walls. Of all the figures that lined the walls the one that mediately drew her attention after the macabre reveal was the red-haired man. of height and stature with her dearly departed moon and stars, and with a similar braided hair.

His eyes were half-lidded, but even halfway open she could see his slit pupils and the purple glow of his eyes.

"I can see you've met our latest… guest"

The voice came from behind her and she spun to face it. she recognized him immediately, the warlock she met at the gates of Quarth.

He continued speaking as he walked around the room moving to where the red-haired man hung with his silk black robes trailing behind him like they were alive.

"a scion of Old Valyria that somehow found a way to bind a dragon to himself once more" The pale warlock stopes in front of his red-haired captive and lovingly caresses his face.

"well he did not so much as bind the dragon, the dragon _bound_ him to itself. Yet he cannot call the beast" the angle she stands at gives her a clear view of what the warlock does next.

He uses his hands to force the red-haired man's mouth open before shoving a vial he removed from his cloak down his throat.

"Centuries of experiments, magical breeding and interbreeding with creatures better left forgotten, and what do they produce?" he answers his question as the red-haired man begins to spasm, jaws locked tight and strangling any scream of pain that should have left his mouth.

His formerly half-lidded eyes are wide open now, glowing with power, madness, and rage as he stares down the warlock.

The flippant warlock takes a step back as the man snaps his head forward, blood-stained teeth aiming for his jugular. He had gone past the stage of forming words and the only thing he lets out are growls as he tries to murder the warlock with his eyes only.

"A brute, a highly talented one, yes. But still a brute. Sorceries that could have been used to rip out the life essence from his enemies and impart it in himself thereby living a long life, and what does he do? He uses it only as a stop-gap to heal himself and instinctually at that!"

The warlock almost seemed offended as he stared at the red-haired man. She took a step back as her eyes drifted away, looking for the entrance the warlock must have used to come in, and yet she found none.

A hand grabbed her from behind before she could turn to confront the person, the unmistakable feeling of chains around her wrist made her frantic.

She pushed the person off and realized it was the same warlock. "How" she choked out as she looked and beheld the warlock still beside the red-haired man, looking at her with a sick smile on his face.

"I can't have my prized guest wandering about" the warlock turned to her and smiled, ignorant of the red-haired berserker's continual struggles to rip the chains out of the wall. His wrists were bruised and bleeding, yet he was making progress.

"As we speak my coven is experiencing the wonders of magic straight from a dragon, and I can assure you, it is intoxicating… for us at least".

Like a curtain had been lifted, she heard her dragons screech again this time with pain and anger.

And suddenly she wasn't so scared again. No, she was furious. Rising to her complete height of 5ft8, she looked the warlock dead in the eye, "you will die. you will all die I promise you that." She said it with such certainty she wondered where the assurance came from.

The warlock took a step back. That same moment a roar loud enough to shake the heavens was let out as something huge and malevolent landed on the tower of the undying. The impact shook the whole building, shaking some stones loose. Some other things came loose too as well.

A mad deranged laugh drew the warlock's attention back to the red-haired berserker that was 'standing' on his feet just a few steps away. chains coiled around bloodied wrists and fists, head tilted to the side, slitted eyes dilated, and blood-stained teeth on complete display.

For the first time he spoke, voice low and hoarse from all his screaming "why, you shouldn't have done that"

The warlock took three frightened steps back, every step produced a clone that charged the red-haired berserker, and brought the warlock closer to her, she held her chains tight and looked for the best way to wrangle his skinny neck. He should never have touched her children.

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**YGRITTE**

Qarth was burning. She sat saddled outside the destroyed gates and watched the city burn as people tried to escape the destroyed city.

The reason, the dreaded beast of myth. Even the free folks knew of dragons, and what she was looking at could not be mistaken for anything else.

The backblast from the humongous monster's roar pushed her hair back and would have scared her horse off if she wasn't the one in control. That could not be said for the rest of her group as the Thormir and the rest were forced to put their horses under control.

rage on their faces as they stared at the city that stole their chief.

They planned a two-prong attack when they discovered Angrod's destination. Half by sea and half my land.

It seemed the dragon had done most of the work for them, she sighed. What was with Angrod and attracting ridiculous situations.

**SER BARRISTAN **

He had been tracking the Mother of Dragons ever since his dismissal from court, And his investigations had led him here. The black scaled dragon barely drew his attention as he charged into the city looking for her. Last he heard her dragon was the size of cats, not a creature with a size comparable to a castle ad sky bloating wings. Its attack and destruction of the city were indiscriminate, although he seemed focused more on a specific structure of black stone.

riding past scared civilians and confused soldiers, he spied a familiar face. "Jorah!"

the disgraced and banished knight turned to him, eyes wide in shock, either from the dragon's presence or his, he did not care to ask.

Ignoring the presence of the Dothraki that stood with him he highlighted from his horse.

"where is she? Where is Rhaeger's sister?"

The bewildered knight pointed to the half-destroyed Black tower. The dragon was perched ontop it and tried its best to put as much flames and magma into the tower as he could.

Of course, she would be there. He was old, but his battlefield senses were still alert, that's why he caught sight of the fur-clad barbarians entering the city by gate and by sea. Cutting down anybody unfortunate enough to hold a weapon with extreme prejudice and hate in their eyes. He felt like he was only aware of one part of a puzzle.

Mounting his horse again, he charged the black tower.

**DAENERYS TARGARYEN**

"Do not wake the dragon"

That was something Viserys loved to say. She never took it seriously and only saw it as a sign of his ever-growing madness. Now she had a vague idea of what he meant.

Everything and everybody in 'their' way was either dead or dying.

She walked ten steps behind him as he wreaked destruction in the castle. For some reason, his eyes always washed over her as he sought out the next dead man walking. She rounded a corner and watched him stomp a warlocks head till his brains were splayed on the floor. she would have thrown up, but she had nothing left in her stomach.

He moved off again, slamming a chain covered fist into another unlucky warlock's face. Hard enough to pulp his face and send the unlucky man to the ground.

The house of Undying originally had no doors, now there were numerous ways to exit and enter. They moved forward, stepping out into the apocalyptic hellscape.

Qarth was burning and yet the man kept on walking, ignorant to the destruction going on. Ignorant to his blood-soaked form. Ignorant to his ash caked form. Ignorant to the mad wide-eyed grin on his face that chased away the few people stupid enough to be close to the center of this apocalypse. maybe not ignorant, just uncaring.

"Nidhogg" he screamed to the sky.

The dragon, for what else could it be. Possessing Heavy overlapping scales covering a reptilian body with a serpentine neck, eyes that glowed sulfuric yellow and gold, bearing a huge jaw that dripped magma, answered with a resounding roar that sent her to the floor, as well as the few building still standing.

The only person still standing was the red-haired berserker staring into the sky. where the Monstrous dragon ruled, along with three tiny shapes flying around his head she recognized as her children.

NOTE: If this chapter seems rushed, that's because it was rushed. finally had a few hours to myself today, so I whipped out this chapter. I'm personally not satisfied with it, but i don't know when else I would have time to write.

The next chapter is going to be POV's (if I write it) then after that the next arc. enjoy. thanks for sticking with me this far, through horrible grammar and numerous misspelled words. love and light.


	20. Not A Chapter!

Alright, apologies but this is not a chapter; I want to write the POVS for the next chapter but I'm… being indecisive. So, I your Magnanimous author decided to push it to you guys. Tell me who's pov you want to see, I would pick a minimum of 3 to write on.


	21. Chapter 20

YGRITTE POV

According to the natives, Quarth was originally a beautiful city, despite the presence of the warlocks and the tower of the undying. The city they were presently in was just a sad shell of the original. A burnt-out, scorched, hollow shell of the once beautiful city.

The few people that remained in the city barricaded themselves in whatever remained of their houses. While the dragon focused his rage and flames on the tower of the undying, it was a testament to its might that the city was this affected by collateral damage alone. Yet the city was not the main focus of her thoughts. Angrod was.

Something was wrong with him. She originally mistook it for the regular bloodlust from a savage fight, but that usually came down after a while. This time was different.

She watched him warm-up for his spar with the few free folks brave enough to spare with him. The permanent change of his eyes was one thing, but his face was stuck in a serene look while his features were twisted into a mad vicious smile and a half-lidded stare that screamed apathy.

"You worry for him"

She turned from her spectator's spot to stare at the person that spoke. The silver-haired princess stood a hand length away with a baby Shadowcat sized dragon on her shoulders. The creature looked at her with a cocked head, she didn't need to feel its mind to know it was more curious than any animal should be.

"I'm his sister, it's my duty to worry when he wouldn't" she replied before turning back to the upcoming spar.

She ignored the whispered "if only my brother thought the same" she was not interested in another dysfunctional family's drama.

"He wields dark sister?" A surprised voice spoke from even further behind her. How the white-haired armored man was able to stand behind the diminutive silver-haired princess and remained hidden should have surprised her, but she was too busy thinking about Angrod to even consider it.

She shrugged in reply before tilting her head to reply the man "bloodraven gave it to him, supposed to be a really good sword"

She turned back to observe the spar only to see the two fighters on the floor, while Angrod looked at them with a frown on his face. The mad smile remained on his face as he frowned, twisting his usual handsome visage into something unnerving.

If she turned to face the white-haired man again, she would have wondered why he was suddenly so pale.

**SER BARRISTAN.**

"Impossible" he whispered to himself as he watched the red-haired child walk towards the towering free folk.

"Impossible is slumbering on top the tower of the undying" His queen turned back and replied him with a frown on her face. "Bryden rivers is dead" he continued by way of explanation.

"he did not sire any children before he died, at least none anybody knew off"

"And who is this Bryden rivers?"

"A Targaryen bastard, that was later legitimized. he also served as the master of whispers and hand of the king, my queen. A child of King Aegon the IV and Melissa blackwood. He was sent to the wall in 230 AC after killing Aenys Blackfire and breaking the sacred guest rights given to him.

"And you are sure he didn't sire children even after going to the wall" his queen spoke with a pensive look on her face as she looked at the stunted conversation happen between the two siblings.

"Of cou-" he stopped eyes wide as he suddenly remembered, Bloodraven was declared missing a few years after going to the wall. "he was declared missing a few years later"

"And the obvious Valyrian blooded siblings come from where he was last seen- beyond the wall." His queen spoke out his thoughts, while he tried to figure out wrap his head around how it came to be."

"It seems like nothing has been impossible even before the sky bled red", his queen said in a laugh as she looked at where the giant black dragon perched on the half-destroyed tower.

**SEA LORD OF BRAVOS**

Dragons. He had been intrigued and grew to love reading about them in his younger years when the weight of his title was not yet his to bear. He was curious at the kind of power three of such creatures would have to subdue a whole continent.

Ignoring the fact that Westeros was a backward pit with brutish people, it didn't take from the fact that they had some of the strongest armies, well-armed and trained knights, numerous _meat shields-_ levies and bloodline breed true. He even thought it either mythology or fake on the rare moment he was deep In his cups ignoring the fact his ancestors escaped them.

Now those same dragons were on his blasted part of the sea, he thought to himself as he reread the letter his spies sent him after rumors of the destruction of Quarth reached him.

If they were to be believed there were four dragons. One more than was needed to subdue a continent. And if his spies were to be believed, _he dearly hoped they got their measurement wrong, _one was as big as a castle…

He pushed the letter aside, gulping down a full cup of wine while bringing up all his predecessor's notes on how to counter dragons. Ever since his forefathers escaped Valyria, they had waited for an attack from the empire, even prepared ballistas that could _hopefully _shoot dragons down even though their greatest weapons against the empire were their relatively unknown location and importance.

"And yet not one of those contingencies considered a fucking castle sized dragon" he screamed as he threw his beautiful glass goblet at the wall. His first sword took a step towards him but his return glare sent the man back to his position behind him.

He sat back down with a sigh, before pushing back his slicked-back hair. Guess it all came down to him to come up with a deterrent against the city wiping dragon, then again, why fight? He thought to himself as a soft smile climbed up his face, for a second he was thinking like those brutish Westrosi, the dragon was not rogue, so why attempt to kill it when he at least converse with this his rider, a savage man called _red death. _

Ignoring the way the name didn't inspire confidence in a diplomatic person, he would make do, there was also the _mother of dragons_ at least her moniker was not as terror-inducing as the former. The smile got stuck to his face as his mind hashed out various plans.

**ARCH-MAESTER MARWYN**

He hurriedly packed up his easily transportable tomes ignoring the four acolytes/servants that stood close by and were staring wide-eyed at his lit obsidian candle.

He had hoped magic was truly back when he originally lit the candle and the resounding psychic wave that came from dragonstone several months ago, then the night watch sent reports of white walkers, wrights, and cold dead things.

While other maesters scoffed at the missives, he was both surprised and secretly pleased. He had already planned to travel to the wall and see it for himself, after all while the white walkers won't be the first to play with necromancy, the warlocks in asshai and beyond never did more than dabble and never on such a wide scale.

The things he could discover, how did the white walkers manage to keep total control of their legendary horde of undead when the warlocks could hardly control more than two or three? Were their minds that inhuman and complex?

These were the questions that raged in him ever since th missives came from the north, now confirmed sightings of dragons! this was going to be legendary, both in magic and historically.

And he was going to be at the front of it even if it killed him, there was just so much to learn. He swung his satchel over his back and rushed out, pushing an archmaester that tried to speak to him away. his direction? The port. Unraveling the secrets of magic and knowledge waited for no man.

**NOTE:** This was meant to come out sooner, but I was trapped in my babe's house over the weekends and without my laptop when peaceful protests against police brutality turned violent the moment soldiers started shooting at protesters.

When I finally made it to my laptop couldn't find it in me to write. I've gotten over it a bit tho, we move.

in other news, well hope you didn't think magical potion overdose and trauma would didn't have consequences other than pretty eyes. magic is a double-edged sword you know.

I always imagined the sealord as a slimy politician -although not inherently evil and marwyn the mage as a magical obsessed version of qyburn. this would be this last chapter till... whenever for now i'm going to try and pump more chapters into my levi in naruto fanfic. love and light folks.

Also tried re editing 1-4 again. If you still feel like ripping out your eyes… oh well. If you're interested in helping me to beta the fic, hit me up.


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